Recovery
by amerikanka
Summary: Six months post-battle, Lavender lives a quiet life with Seamus as she struggles with her new wolfish instincts and the mental and physical scars from her attack and the war. But with a rogue werewolf on the loose and the Ministry passing laws against her kind, how long can her life stay quiet? And can Seamus keep her safe from the rogue, or keep from hurting her himself? COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

Turning over the 'Closed' sign on the door, Lavender stepped out into the night and locked the shop behind her. Her hand was closed lightly around the handle of her wand and her eyes darted around the dark street, eyeing and sizing up the few late night shoppers. Wind bit down into her clothing and she tucked her scarf tighter around her neck and pulled her hat lower around her ears.

Her boots were soft against the pavement as she walked, careful not to walk to quickly, but also careful not to dawdle. She was working on being okay again, but six months on from the most frightening night of her life still had her twitching at shadows and flickers of lamplight in the wind. The cold caressed her scars as well, and she buried her chin in her scarf to try and keep away the pain. It wasn't a long walk home, but it was long enough that by the time she reached the door of her flat she knew her scars would be puckered pink and raw.

She murmured the counterhexes to lift the wards on her door, tracing her wand shakily over the thick wood. Even with her gloves, by the time she finished lifting off the last hexes her hands were numb, and she was shaking as she hurried to get the door shut again and keep the cold out.

"Lavender?" A voice with a light Irish brogue asked. Lavender felt a smile creep over her face, despite the chill. Seamus was always here Friday nights, and warm smells of roasting chicken and potatoes came to her nose as she started to unwrap the many layers of her clothing.

He came through the hallway to help her with her jacket, a smile lighting up his face before his eyes narrowed in worry. "Are you alright?"

"Of course," she replied, raising her eyebrows in confusion. "I'm just cold."

He reached out a hand to touch her forehead, right where one of the scars was, and his fingers came away with a few drops of blood. "Oh," she said softly. "I'll go clean up."

She brushed past him into the bathroom, biting her lip hard against the tears. Stupid scars. They had been slow to heal, and, each time something like this happened, they took even longer.

Looking at herself in the mirror was hard. What always met her eyes was flawless skin, alabaster white and clear of any blemishes like dragon pox scars or acne like her classmates had been plagued with. Thick, blond curls that fell to the small of her back and were usually held back by some kind of ribbon or pin. A straight nose, carefully maintained arching eyebrows, full lips, and brown eyes. This close to the new moon her eyes were brown and warm – closer to the full moon they got a yellowish tint to them that made her look away from her reflection.

But what she most saw in the mirror was her scars. Four slashes made by claws (it had really been fingernails, but that memory is still too fresh to accept) trace across her forehead and right temple and into her hairline, and there's a bite mark (again, it was actually made by a human mouth with sharp fangs) near her left eye. She blocked the memories even before they started to rise up, in what was becoming a practiced habit of hers. The scars were all pink and raw, the largest one on her forehead seeping blood from the cold.

She grabbed a pot of the salve that she used to heal the scars and applied it slowly, trying to think of it medically instead of emotionally. They did look a lot better than they had even just a few months ago, but they were still nasty. They still made her ashamed.

When she came out of the bathroom she didn't meet Seamus's eyes. "Lavender..." he started, before she cut him off.

"What's for dinner?" She asked, not wanting to deal with any of his concerns right then. Bad enough that the people at the robe shop stared at her. She didn't need to be told she was beautiful by Seamus, because it wouldn't make a difference when confronted with the stares and shocked looks and horrified whispers of customers.

"Roast chicken and potatoes," he replied, a sigh evident in his voice.

They sat down to eat soon after that, trading tales of their day. Lavender worked in a small robes shop off of Diagon Alley, no competition for Madame Malkin's, but geared rather for the more modern witch. It was a simple job that she enjoyed, even if the looks of some of the young women and men who entered the shop made her want to hide in a corner and cry until they left. But her boss, Brenda, hadn't looked twice at her scars when she'd done Lavender's interview, and for that Lavender would also be absurdly grateful to the woman.

Seamus, meanwhile, was in training with the Aurors. He still had another six months of training to go until he was partnered with a senior Auror for three years, but he loved his job. Some of their other classmates had joined him in the training program, which had been specially accelerated for the members of Dumbledore's Army. They had done so much training and preparing to fight their last year of Hogwarts, the regular training program and the people in it had been overshadowed quickly.

He was telling her animatedly about an encounter they had run today, and how Auror McLean had been impressed with his performance. She was caught up in his excitement, though for herself, Lavender had had enough of the fighting last year. She was content to sew robes and make alterations – she didn't need to still be fighting. She didn't quite understand why Seamus still wanted to fight, not that they'd ever really had a conversation about it.

After dinner, they moved over to the fireplace and Lavender poured them firewhiskey. It had been a long week, and Saturday was the one day they both had off. It was nice to just enjoy each other's company, because often they wouldn't even see each other, despite practically living together. She couldn't remember the last night they had spent apart, even though sometimes he came home after she was asleep and was gone before she woke. He had a demanding schedule but it didn't bother her too much, even if it was a little lonely sometimes.

They curled up on the couch in front of the fire, Lavender tucked into the curve of Seamus's arm. The boy she had gone to school with had been a wiry thing, full of passion and fire, but the past year had made him hard, physically and mentally. He was such a good candidate for the Aurors because Dumbledore's Army under Neville had taught him a thing about picking his fights, and the exercise regimen they had been put through had given them both stamina and muscle.

She buried her face in the side of his neck, smelling his own distinct scent. Since being attacked by Greyback, the one good thing that had come of her changes was a heightening of her senses. She could smell much better now than she could before – her nose could pick out the slight nuances in smells that she couldn't before. Seamus still smelled a little like the garlic and thyme he'd used to season the chicken, as well as the uniquely Seamus smell of his sweat and Auror robes.

He was running a hand absentmindedly over her hair, smoothing her blond curls with his fingers. It lulled her into a half sleep, half awake state. She never felt as relaxed as she did when she was with him, and likewise, she could feel the tension draining out of his muscles as they rested together on the couch. Their breaths matched in frequency, and she quirked a smile at that. Seamus had always hated Divination, and after seeing her friends die and be hurt in the Battle of Hogwarts, she'd lost all her faith in the subject as well. But it had been good for learning how to read people, how to sympathize with them, even with something as simple as matching breaths. Divination had given her a way of noticing things, small things, about people that she hadn't before, and she thought that might have been one of the reasons she and Seamus worked so well as a couple. He was all fire and passion and heart, and she was a little more reserved.

Of course, she hadn't always been. But seventh year had changed so many things for Lavender, not in the least her looks, that she had been forced to grow up fast. They all had. They had learned to run fast and fight fast, to plan and plot and prepare, and she had never thought that at the age of seventeen, she could fight in a battle that would ultimately decide the course of a war. But she had, and now the world was free again, and sometimes it still blew her mind that she had been a part of it.

Seamus yawned and Lavender smiled up at him, stretching as she looked around. "Tired?" She asked. The crackling of the fire had settled down into dimly glowing embers, and though the wind still howled outside, she was warm and content in her small flat.

Seamus nodded before standing and offering her a hand up, leading her into the bedroom. They got ready for bed in comfortable silence, Lavender shrugging out of her top and pants and throwing them into the pile of clothes already on the floor. They slipped into bed together and he wrapped his arms around her, pressing her back against his chest. "I love you," she whispered, turning slightly to kiss him before settling herself in for sleep.

"I love you too," he said, his voice rumbling slightly. She could feel the vibration of his chest against her back and she dozed off with a contented smile on her face. Life was good to her, with this man in it. She couldn't ask for much more.


	2. Chapter 2

The new moon always felt the best to Lavender. Her eyes were brown without a hint of yellow, she didn't want her meat bloody, and her ears couldn't pick out the various whispers people were saying about her as well as they could nearer to the full moon. Her scars were just as livid as always, but with the cold weather and rain they had been getting recently, she could remain bundled up and hide most of them. She ignored Seamus's looks when she pulled her collar high to hide the slashes down her neck, and instead brushed out the door after giving him a kiss and wishing him a good day at work. He wanted her to be proud of her scars and not apologize for them or hide them. She just wanted to get through another day of being out in public without breaking down into tears over the looks she would get from strangers.

The heels of her boots didn't click going down the street. She used to love the feeling of commanding attention with her high heels but now, even though her boots did have heels, she cast a silencing charm on them every week to keep them quiet. Part of it was the fact that she had learned last year that drawing attention was going to get her hurt, but most of it was the fact that if her heels clicked going down the street, people would look at her, and then they might see her scars.

She got to work five minutes early as usual, unlocking the door and letting herself in. Her boss, Brenda, was already in the back counting the money for the till, and Lavender called a quick hello before setting about her own opening tasks. She straightened the robes on the hangers, brought out new stock from the back, and readjusted the clothing on the mannequins in the window in the short time before opening.

With Christmas coming up, Brenda had called her in for extra hours and Lavender was mostly happy to oblige. Seamus's crazy schedule meant that she rarely got to see him anyway, so as long a she didn't pick up extra work when she knew he was going to be off, she didn't mind. It gave her something else to do during the day, and the extra Galleons were appreciated.

There was a slight flurry of activity when they first opened the doors, but after the first hour it settled down into a manageable stream of people. Lavender was kept on her toes as she was sent for more fabric, or a different cut of robes, at Brenda's request. It wasn't until her lunch break that she had a chance to stop for a moment, and while she ate her sandwich in the back she kicked her feet up. It was a rewarding job, to be sure, but days like this were stressful and made her want to ask Brenda to hire seasonal help.

When she came back from break, Brenda went to go take her own break and Lavender was left on the floor alone. The first lady she helped was lovely, only had a ripped seam she needed fixed in a gorgeous blue silk robe, and Lavender said she'd have it done by the next day. As she set to work on it, a pair of girls came in and started pawing through the racks, voices loud even without her full moon hearing.

Stifling a sigh, Lavender put down her stitching and got up and walked over to the girls, pasting her customer service smile on her face. "Can I help you ladies with anything today?" She asked cheerfully.

One of the girls looked at her, then audibly gasped. She raked her eyes over Lavender's face, taking in all the scars with wide eyes. Lavender was careful to keep her smile fixed, even though it felt like the girl was physically hurting her. "Oh Merlin, what happened to _you_?" The other girl asked, turning around and having almost the same reaction.

Lavender could feel her smile cracking. "Can I help you ladies with anything today?" She repeated, voice shaking slightly.

The girls exchanged looks before the first one shook her head. "No."

"Okay," Lavender said, taking a deep breath. "Just let me know if you want to try anything on." She bit her lip hard as she turned her back, trying to keep the tears from coming. She could hear them whispering behind her and even though she didn't know exactly what they were saying, she had a good guess about the words. She walked over to the register and held herself ramrod straight until the girls left and Brenda returned.

Her boss took one look at her and sent her home, shaking her head over Lavender's apologies and insistences that she could stay. Brenda practically shoved her out the door, telling her to go home, have a cup of tea, and don't mind what people say.

Home early, Lavender followed Brenda's advice and made tea before curling up on her couch and crying, tea going cold in front of her. She knew people talked, and those girls certainly hadn't been the first to make her feel like this, but it was the consistency of it, and the knowledge that those girls were only a few years younger than Lavender herself. They were either Hogwarts students or home schooled, and Lavender felt, perhaps unjustly, that they should know better than to comment on anyone's scars after the recent year.

It also hurt to know that just a year before, that would be her and Parvati. The death of her best friend was still a raw wound, as raw as her scars, and thinking about her hurt like being clawed all over again. But Parvati had been the best shopping buddy, and Lavender didn't like to think about the fact that had she seen herself a year ago, she and Parvati would likely be just as horrified by her appearance as those girls had been.

Lavender tucked herself up in a blanket that smelled like Seamus. He wasn't going to be back for another six hours or so, but she could at least feel like he was there to comfort her in spirit.

She picked up a book a little while later and fixed dinner, looking out her window as rain started to fall. Times like these, the wolf was as far away as it could be and it felt good, but even at the new moon she was still alienated from others because of her scars. She wasn't a full werewolf, not by any stretch of the imagination, but the closer it got to the full moon, the bloodier she wanted her meat and the snappier she got. Seamus had learned to deal with it amazingly well, though sometimes she wondered if he was just humoring her, and was in fact extremely unnerved by her around the full moon.

Around nine in the evening she heard the sound of a wand against the door, undoing the wards. She knew, from the particular rasp of the wand on the wood and the muffled curses against the rain she could hear, that it was Seamus. That didn't stop her from touching her own wand in reassurance. Lavender, and all of the DA, had been particularly slow to let the wariness go after the events of last year. Some of them had dealt with it by going into law enforcement, while others, like her, were still more nervous about certain situations than regular people would be.

She got up to greet him when he walked in, taking his cloak and hanging it up to dry. He kissed her when she turned back around, surprising her with the intensity of it. "Hello to you too," she said, unable to help the smile that spread over her face despite her bad day.

He leaned in to kiss her again and she was more than happy to respond accordingly, looping her arms around the back of his neck and twining her fingers into his hair to pull him down to her. His hands, rough from his work, slipped under her shirt, brushing against the silken smooth skin of her hip. "Seamus," she whispered, breathing in sharply at the sensation. He was always exceedingly gentle with her scarred skin, and he knew exactly where those scars were, and exactly how she liked to be touched, and it wasn't long before she was pulling him into the bedroom and yanking his shirt over his head to expose his own scars. He had many, both from their seventh year and from his more recent line of work, and she knew exactly which ones to run her fingers over lightly to make him shiver, and exactly where to avoid because the skin was still raw.

After, they lay together in bed, sweat glistening on their bodies. Seamus's hair was still wet from the rain but he seemed a little calmer now than he had when he first walked in, his eyes a little less wild, his need a little less present. He ran a hand along her cheek softly, then kissed her gently. "Nothing is going to hurt you," he murmured against her lips, making her shiver with the feeling of it even though her needs had just been sated. "Nothing."

"What would hurt me?" She couldn't help but ask, despite the moment.

"Nothing," he said again, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and drawing her close, so close she could feel her eyelashes brushing against his skin. "Not while I'm here."

He held her all that night, and when she woke up to weak sunlight streaming through her bedroom window, she was still wrapped in the circle of his arms. Usually he was a fretful sleeper – they both were, since the events of the previous year – and so it was a little strange, but not strange enough to make her worry too much. She went into the kitchen to fix tea and breakfast for them both, wearing nothing more than a purple cotton nightgown she had pulled on before leaving the bedroom. Her blood had run hot ever since she'd been attacked, something to do with chemical changes in her body from the werewolf bite.

Lavender hushed the kettle before it screamed, pouring hot water over black tea for the both of them. Toast and eggs and sausages were easy enough to fry up as well, and soon the smell of melted butter and frying meat roused Seamus from the bedroom. He came out rubbing his eyes and with mussed hair, cute as could be, and she gave him a quick kiss as she handed him his tea.

She giggled as he chugged the tea down, then took his cup back and fixed him another. "Sleep well?" She asked, giving him a sly grin.

He returned it, nodding. "I don't have to be at work until five tonight," he said, sidling towards her.

She dodged nimbly out of the way. "You'd have me burn our breakfast, then?" She asked in a pert voice.

"Nah," Seamus returned. "Breakfast first. Then back to bed."

That got another laugh out of her, and soon enough they were eating. "What did you mean last night?" She asked as she chopped at her sausages.

"Hmm?" he asked, mouth full of toast.

Lavender snorted at the sight of him stuffing his face. "Very charming. Last night, when you said you'd never let anything hurt me? Is something happening with the Aurors?"

A shadow passed over his face and he scowled as he swallowed his mouthful of toast. "Nothing to be worried about. Just the usual hotheads causing trouble."

Lavender frowned slightly but didn't push the issue. There hadn't really been many hotheads causing trouble after last May. Everyone was still recovering from the war, no one had the time or energy to stir up anything new. He'd tell her eventually though, if it was that big of a concern. He was terrible at keeping secrets.


	3. Chapter 3

The days grew shorter as the moon waxed into December. Work picked up even more at Brenda's shop and Lavender felt like she was constantly running around. Snow fell in fits and spurts and made it hard to get out of bed in the morning, though Lavender was grateful for the fact that she could layer up even more without it seeming strange. The scars on her face were bad enough without exposing the ones on her neck and shoulder. Summer had been rough. There was only so much layering that could happen before it got uncomfortably hot.

Work had been picking up for Seamus too, and Lavender felt like she hardly got to see him again. When she'd mentioned it to him a few nights before he had kissed her hard and told her it would go back to normal after the holidays, and then rushed out the door. She had been left standing alone and not at all reassured, clutching her bathrobe to her hard enough to turn her knuckles white. He was hiding something from her, she knew.

He wasn't seeing someone else, unless he was being incredibly careful about it. She would smell it if he'd been around some other girl in _that_ way. She could smell what coworkers he had interacted with on a daily basis, which had scared her at first but she was slowly coming to terms with. It was weird, being able to smell people, or knowing the exact scrape of his wand against the door, the precise sound of the fall of his footsteps and the swish of his work robes in the wind.

And yet as she had stood there in the fading traces of the cold wind his exit had let in the house, she couldn't help but feel scared, like he was leaving her when he left the house. Seamus loved her, she knew that, but it felt like he didn't when he did that. And that feeling put fear into her, and she pricked her finger with a needle three times at work that day.

It got worse over the next few days. He was always home at night, but it got to be more and more that she would go to sleep and he would be gone by the time she woke up. She knew he had been there – she could smell him in her sheets, and there would be tea mugs and plates left in the sink – but she rarely saw him and it made her even more worried.

Coming home from work a week after his strange new behavior had started, Lavender decided to stop for a drink at the Leaky Cauldron. It wasn't like Seamus was waiting for her to come home, she thought bitterly. He probably wouldn't even notice. She kept her collar pulled high and her scarf on as she entered the crowded bar. Plenty of Christmas shoppers had stopped in for a bite and a drink before braving the cold again. The weather had taken a turn for the worse, and more snow was called for that night.

Lavender took a seat at the bar, avoiding the look of a man around her age. She had a boyfriend, even if he was absent recently, and that man wouldn't be interested once she removed her scarf anyway. She pulled her scarf down slightly, then removed it slowly. She darted a look across at the man as she shook out her hair, the scars on her forehead and right temple clearly visible. He blinked at her, that same horrified look she had grown resigned to present in his eyes, and she looked away. All his stare was going to do was make her more bitter, and that was the last thing she needed right then.

"Lavender?" A familiar voice asked, and Lavender looked around to meet the eyes of Hannah Abbott, another DA member who had fought in the Battle of Hogwarts.

"Hi Hannah," Lavender greeted across the noise of the bar. Hannah was behind the counter and quickly came up to Lavender's seat. Lavender had almost forgotten that Hannah was working here now, to help her grandfather run the place.

"It's great to see you!" Hannah greeted with a smile, the Hufflepuff warmth evident in her voice and making Lavender feel better just with the sound of it. "Can I get you something to warm you up a little?"

"Firewhiskey would be great," Lavender replied, a smile creeping over her own face at Hannah's infectious happiness.

"We've got some cider warming on the fire too, how about a splash of that in it?" Hannah offered.

Lavender nodded her assent and soon enough her drink was in front of her, steaming and smelling of spices. It smelled amazing, and she didn't hesitate in sticking her nose right over the cup and inhaling the cloves, cinnamon, ginger, and nutmeg mingling with the apples and whiskey. It tasted incredibly when it cooled enough for her to drink it, and Lavender slowly felt her good mood returning. She still missed Seamus, of course, but the press of people around her helped her feel less lonely.

She stayed at the bar longer than she had intended, and two hours on it had cleared out significantly, with people wanting to get home before the snow started. Hannah came over to her and leaned across the bar on her elbows, looking at Lavender. "How have you been?" She asked. "It feels like I haven't seen you in months."

"I don't think you have," Lavender admitted. "I've been working a lot. The shop is picking up with the holidays."

"That's good to hear," Hannah smiled. "How's Seamus? It seems like Neville is constantly gone with that new case at work."

"Seamus is gone a lot too," Lavender admitted, her earlier concern returning. "Neville has been working overtime too, then?"

Hannah nodded. "Not like Seamus, he says. Apparently Seamus is taking this case personally. Which is understandable, of course," she amended swiftly, looking at Lavender like the blond might take offense.

Lavender tilted her head in confusion. "How do you mean?"

Hannah looked at her in confusion. "Hasn't he told you what the case is?"

Lavender shook her head. "He's been gone a lot..." she said, trying to keep the defensive tone out of her voice. "I really haven't seen him much the past week."

Hannah bit her lip. "I thought you knew." She lowered her voice before continuing. "They're tracking a werewolf. Apparently he's one of Fenrir Greyback's old followers, who didn't take well to the fact that Greyback was caught and put down. This werewolf has been targeting people like... well, people like you, who were attacked but didn't change."

Lavender felt short of breath. Why hadn't he told her? Had he not wanted her to worry? Did he think she would be scared he was helping hunt for a werewolf? Had he not wanted to scare her with the thought someone might be hunting for her? That was idiotic. It would be much better if she knew and could know to guard against a werewolf, rather than just wander around not knowing about the danger. Slowly, she felt the dull flickers of anger catching inside her, like sparks on dry tinder.

"Lavender, I'm so sorry," Hannah said, but Lavender barely heard her. "I thought he had told you."

"It's okay, Hannah." Her own voice sounded strange to her, like it was coming from underwater, or over a bad radio connection. "Thanks for letting me know." She pulled out money from her purse to pay for her drink, then gave Hannah a tight smile and left the Leaky Cauldron.

She was wary on her walk home, even though she knew she was likely safe since the moon wouldn't be full for almost another two weeks. When she reached her flat she undid the hexes mechanically before letting herself in. Her house was empty as she lit the lamps and started a pot of tea, eyes still unseeing. How could he not tell her?

Some of the papers she had been seeing lately made more sense now. The Ministry of Magic had been coming out with more werewolf legislation recently, and though it didn't apply to Lavender because she wasn't actually a werewolf, it had been a little worrying. There had been some outcry from the community but it had been silenced fairly swiftly, from what she was remembering. If there was a rogue werewolf on the loose increased legislation and control over werewolves made sense, even if it made her uncomfortable. How much werewolf was too much, anyway?

She stayed awake waiting for Seamus to return, starting a fire and letting it die down without tending it as her mind roiled. Why hadn't he told her? Some misguided and outdated sense of Gryffindor chivalry? He should know her better than that. Just because he was an Auror and she worked in a robe shop didn't mean she had forgotten everything from six months ago. She had killed people, not because she wanted to but because it was her or them. Did he think she was just going to roll over and cry for help?

Her irritation intensified, and when she finally heard his wand tracing out the patterns on the door she stood, practically crackling from anger. He stepped into the house slowly and keeping his footsteps soft, clearly expecting her to be asleep. When he turned around he almost jumped from surprise at seeing her standing there against the glow of the first. She could hear his sharp intake of breath, then the slower breaths he took to calm himself. "I thought you'd be asleep," he said, a hint of wariness in his voice. He wasn't stupid, she knew, and she knew _he knew_ she was mad.

"Why didn't you tell me there was a rogue werewolf running around hunting down people like me?" She asked. She had learned better than to beat around the bush with him. Both of them appreciated directness, which was another reason this hurt so much.

Lavender heard him sigh, and she could see him slump down in the dim light. "I didn't want to worry you," he said quietly. "I just wanted to take care of it before you knew. You've been so busy at work, I didn't want to stress you out even more."

"So you hid this from me? The number of times I've walked home alone at night, and you hid this from me? Not even a warning?"

"He's not in London," Seamus explained. "We know that much."

"Do you think that matters?" Lavender asked, her voice rising. "What, did you think I couldn't take care of myself, you didn't want me to fret, like I don't know what werewolves are capable of? How could you not tell me, Seamus?"

"I didn't want you to worry!" He shot back, never one to back down from a fight and just take being yelled at. "I told you I wouldn't let anything hurt you and I won't! This is my job now, Lavender, this is what I'm trained for!"

"I'm trained for it too!" She yelled at him, not caring that the neighbors might wake up. "I was in Dumbledore's Army with you, in case you've forgotten! Just because I'm not an Auror with you doesn't mean I'm useless!"

"Oh, what, are you going to stab him with a needle? Take his measurements?" Seamus said, disdain evident in his voice. The moment he said it she heard his intake of breath again, but she didn't care as anger raced through her.

"Is that what you really think of me?" She asked quietly, voice cold. "That I'm just some seamstress and I can't take care of myself?"

"Of course not," he hastened to respond. "Lavender, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that."

"But you said it," she commented lowly.

"I didn't mean it," he said, but his words sounded hollow to her.

There was silence before she sighed lightly and shook her head. "It's okay. I'm going to bed."

He joined her in their bed soon, back pressed up against hers. But there was an uncomfortable silence between them, and she lay awake most of the night thinking about their fight. Just because she chose to be a seamstress didn't mean she couldn't protect herself, and she was still a little angry that he had said that. But she knew that anger wasn't the way to fix the gap between them, so she turned slightly and pressed a kiss to his shoulder, still feeling the uncomfortable silence even as he rolled over and took her into his arms.


	4. Chapter 4

The next few days were awkward. Seamus continued the pattern of leaving early and staying at work late, and Lavender threw herself into her own job with a zeal that impressed her boss. She left the shop when Brenda locked it for the night and sometimes even took pieces home with her, sewing by the light of the fire and candles as the winter wind howled at her door. She could feel the moon waxing as well, and it shortened her temper. The full moon would fall just a few days before Christmas, and she was dreading it.

Lavender's family had been so relieved she had survived they hadn't stopped to consider the fact that she had been attacked by a werewolf for the first few months. Then, as Lavender started to prefer her meat more and more rare and asked about her little sister's new boyfriend before Daphne had told her parents (Lavender could smell cologne on Daphne's clothes and hadn't thought anything of it), the werewolf part of her began to become a sticking point for her parents.

They had stopped inviting her over, saying work was busy or they didn't want to bother her, and she had taken the hint well enough. Seamus had been there to comfort her anyway, telling her that if they couldn't accept that she was still the same that was their problem and not hers, and so she brushed off the hurt and carried on as best as she could. But they'd invited her for Christmas dinner and she couldn't very well say no, and so she was dreading the holiday.

Not least because Christmas Day was just three days after the full moon, and even though she wasn't really a werewolf, the moon did a number on her emotional state that she was nervous about handling in so close conjunction with seeing her family. She would have talked to Seamus about it, but he wasn't around, and so she didn't speak of it with anyone. Brenda was her boss, not her confidant, and Hannah was busy with the Leaky Cauldron and while they had been friends, they had never been close. She needed Parvati but she shut down that train of thought before it could even start to leave the station. Her best friend's death was too raw still, just like the scars on her face. Maybe when her scars healed and she could smile probably again without worrying about splitting one open, maybe then she could think about Parvati.

So instead of worrying as the full moon and Christmas drew near, Lavender instead shut down. She was asleep before Seamus got home every night, though she did left a plate of dinner for him in the fridge before she slept, just in case he was hungry. Even though his reclusiveness was hurtful and she wanted to yell at him for it, she still loved him. Sometimes the food was eaten when she awoke, sometimes it wasn't, but she always knew he had been home.

As the first quarter of the moon came, her senses started heightening. Once she was awoken by the smell of blood when Seamus came in, and instead of putting her into a frenzy like the latest government reports said it should do, it just made her terribly sad instead. She curled up with a blanket on the couch after he left that morning, breathing in his scent and letting the traces of blood fade from her nose. She knew the smell of his blood better than anyone else's blood, if only because the day after the battle her hands had been drenched in it.

Lavender wanted to tell Seamus that she missed him. She wanted to lay in his arms in their bed and feel safe more than anything else. But some awful mix of pride and fear kept her from it. His comments about her being a seamstress still hurt and even though he'd apologized, he's still said them. That meant some part of him meant them.

Work got worse. Despite her willingness and attempts to keep a positive attitude, the increase in customers meant an increase in horrified looks at her scars. Most people were healing from their wounds from the past year, but with the cold and the wind, Lavender's looked worse than ever. She tried to hide them with layers of foundation and concealer to no avail. Half the time she felt like she was hiding in the back, trying to get away from the whispers. Brenda was great about it, but Lavender still felt like a failure. It was hard to believe she was being a good employee when she spent half her time blowing her nose into scraps of old fabric and trying to keep her customer service smile plastered on.

Hold it together. That became her mantra as the days continued to shorten. Seamus remained absent, even more so after their fight. Even when he was around things were silent and awkward, and she felt like she had to tread on eggshells around him. He looked like he had been run ragged. She appreciated the thought that he seemed to have, that he was going to hunt down the rogue werewolf and make things safe for her, but his method of doing it left many things to be desired.

Meanwhile, the legislation passed by the Ministry got worse. Werewolves were required not only to register, but to also check in to holding cells the day before the full moon and stay there until the day after it, and that particular fact spurred a surge of indignant anger in her. She read a few commentaries in the _Daily Prophet_ speaking against it, but the sense she was getting from the customers in the shop and the rest of the _Prophet_ was that this was a good measure to take. It made her want to hide even more. Sure, she wasn't really a werewolf, but that didn't mean she was comfortable with the Ministry wanting to lock up people who were like her, only a little less lucky.

Her life became split between work and home, with the rare except of stopping in the Leaky Cauldron to say hello to Hannah. She did her Christmas shopping quickly, finding books for her sister, candles and a gift certificate for her mother, and a new tie for her father all within a day of each other. Seamus took a little longer, if only because it hurt a little to shop for him when she barely even saw him, but she ended up with a fancy pair of leather gloves lined with cashmere against the cold and a set of gold cufflinks set with tiny rubies to wear on his dress robes.

Lavender wrapped all the presents one night while the rain drummed on the roof, tucking silver paper and gold ribbon gently around her gifts and trying not to think of what would happen when she had to give them. Her family would be appreciative and cold, which was saddening but not unexpected. She would just leave the dinner early and head home.

Seamus's gift gave her pause. He had reassured her a few weeks back that he had Christmas Eve and Christmas Day both off, and he's also promised to be home for both of them. Lavender's shop was closed, of course, and Brenda was going to be out of the country visiting her relatives in the south of France until the New Year, so she didn't feel a pressing urge to open it up. Boxing Day was probably going to be dull anyway, and Brenda had said she could keep the shop closed if she liked. But with the threat of this rogue werewolf and Seamus's extra hours (and apparent lack of desire to be home after their almost fight), Lavender didn't know if he was planning on being around or not.

Despite that, she wrapped it with just as much precise care as she had given to the other gifts, then set the two boxes gently on the mantle. The both were tagged with his name in her flowing handwriting and she stared at them for longer than she ought to have done before going to fix herself dinner.

As the full moon drew closer her senses heightened even more, and she became more twitchy and nervous than she had been before. Lavender suspected it was a combination of feeling abandoned by her boyfriend and her family and the fact that she was working extra hours, but it didn't make the oncoming moon any easier to handle. As always, she quietly requested the day off from Brenda, with the promise to work additional hours that weekend to make up for it, and Brenda reluctantly agreed. She had been alright with hiring a part-werewolf and Lavender was of course beyond grateful, but any boss would be irritated by the constant need for time off, especially during a busy holiday season.

Two days before the full moon, Lavender woke up with the feeling that something was intensely wrong. The tiny hairs on the back of her neck stood up as she snapped awake, going from slumber to nervous in the space of a few breaths. She breathed in to try and calm herself and something was different about the scent of her apartment, but she couldn't place it instantly.

She stood, wrapping her robe around herself and padding around her bedroom, looking at things critically in hopes they would tell her what exactly felt so _wrong_ about the day. The kitchen looked unchanged when she walked out into it, as did the living room. The fire she had started the night before was nothing more than cold ash in the hearth, and the book she had been reading was unmoved. Lavender inhaled deeply again, closing her eyes to let her wolfish nose process the scents, then gasped as she realized what was different.

Seamus hadn't been here the night before. There was no lingering scent of his particular smell on the air, no trace of his hands touching the doorknob or and dishes left in the sink from a late dinner. His boots had tracked in no new mud, the tea box hadn't been touched, and when she went reluctantly back into her room, she realized that his side of the bed was only mussed from her restless sleep.

He hadn't come home.

Lavender was shaking, she realized belatedly, though whether it was from the chill of the air or her emotions she didn't know. She suspected the latter, but, much like her reaction to thinking of Parvati, she shut down that train of thought. She blinked and swallowed hard, trying to keep the tears from coursing down her cheeks. How could he not come home? Was he truly so caught up at the office he hadn't realized the time? Where had he slept? Did Neville's couch now have his scent on it, was he drinking black tea from some other mug in some other house?

She touched his pillow with trembling fingers, the feelings of betrayal slinking through her like a drop of ink into water. She took her breaths lightly now that she understood what was so wrong about the air, now that it didn't have his scent on it as strongly as usual.

Lavender bit her lip, then threw on her clothes and jacket. She still had two hours before her shift at work started, and the house was suddenly stifling. She had to get out. She collected her things in a haphazard rush, leaving her dishes undone in the sink from the night before as she rushed out of her flat, slamming the door behind her and doing up the wards without processing exactly what she was doing.

How could he not come home? She stalked down the street in a daze, staring at nothing as she dodged around people. How could he just leave her like that? He knew what it meant to her, to have him home, he knew, he had to know. How could he not?


	5. Chapter 5

The day of the full moon dawned with pale sunshine and a rare blue sky. Lavender was up with the sun, pacing her house as she felt the pull already starting. She wasn't a full werewolf, of course, but the moon still did things to her that scared her. She always made sure her small refrigerator was stocked high with raw steaks and that her door was chained shut. Just because she didn't turn didn't mean she wanted company.

Seamus had tried, the first few full moons, to stay with her through the day and night. It had ended with her clawing him across the face with her fingernails, though she hadn't realized it at the time. When she woke to his face scratched like hers was she had been horrified in herself and had banned him from being around her after that. She didn't want to hurt anyone ever again, especially not him.

Lavender tried to entertain herself by reading a book, but she could only put up with sitting still for so long. She resumed her pacing as noon came and went, the moments going by achingly slowly. She debated going out before almost immediately shutting down that idea. If she could claw Seamus, the person she cared most about in the world, when he was being nice to her, who knew what she would do to the first person who made a comment about her scars? And her hearing was sharp too, sharper than it had ever been before. She knew she wouldn't be two minutes outside before someone said the wrong thing and she jumped on them.

Noon faded to evening at a snail's pace. She got no visitors, not that she really expected them. Seamus had been home the night before but they hadn't spoken, and as was his new routine he'd left before she woke. Despite her anger with him, after he'd left she turned over and buried her nose in his pillow, drinking in the comforting smell of him. He smelled like home.

He should have known better than to try and sneak out of the flat on the day of the full moon, though, she thought with more than a touch of bitterness. Nothing could hide from a werewolf's nose, even a part werewolf nose like hers. Skulking out of the flat like he'd done something wrong (even when he had) wasn't going to fix anything, and she tried to do away with the bitterness before it consumed her. That was the last thing she needed tonight.

The moment the moon rose, all her senses were on high alert. She could hear her neighbors readying for dinner, smell the food they were preparing, hear the sound of a cat's footfalls out in the back alley, and her skin felt like it was alive. Even the brush of her shirtsleeve against her forearm was enough to make her twitch, and she quickly stripped off the shirt. Next full moon she knew she couldn't be indoors. Maybe she'd find some lonely field somewhere, some far-flung forest, and run under the trees. She had enough energy she felt like she could run for days.

Her blood felt hot as the moon crept up from the horizon, and the restlessness intensified. Lavender paced and paced and paced, her hair wild and her eyes darting. Maybe the feelings of loneliness were making the usual symptoms of the moon worse for her, but she desperately wanted to be around other people. Not humans, because humans would never understand. But other people like her, who had been bitten but weren't turned, who were maybe having just as strong of reactions as she was.

She had tried blocking out the moonlight with curtains and sticking charms before, but it didn't help. So instead she left her curtains open and when the moonlight finally poured in through the window she bathed in it like it was an elixir of life. She knew it was the thing that had her restless and hyped up, but for the first few moments of letting the moonlight touch her skin, it calmed her. Her blood still ran hot under her flesh and the noises of the night sang in her ears with an intensity that was intoxicating, but the moonlight helped.

The night dragged on. Lavender ate her steaks nearly raw and then curled up in a blanket under the pool of moonlight streaming in through her window, falling in to a fretful sleep and trying not to desperately wish Seamus would be there the next morning to wake her up. Wishes were things that she didn't get to have, not any more. All she could hope for was for him to be there, against all odds.

He wasn't, when she woke. She felt drained and achy and standing up from her blanket on the floor was a process that took longer than it should have. All her bones hurt even though she knew she hadn't changed forms. When she took a quick look at herself in the mirror she almost laughed at how terrible she looked. Her eyes were big in her face, set deep against shadows from the lack of sleep. Her hair was ragged and tattered from pulling at it, and her skin was pale from exhaustion.

Despite all that, she had to be at work at noon, so she dragged herself through the routine of getting ready for work. She wasn't hungry but she forced down a bagel and cream cheese, knowing she would regret it later if she didn't. It felt like she had been run over by a bus, but it was a feeling Lavender was becoming uncomfortably used to with each passing full moon.

The rest of the day dragged on and all she wanted to do was go home to sleep. She made meaningless conversation with the customers until Brenda sent her home with a pitying look when the shop closed. Lavender hated the pity more than anything, but as usual, she didn't say anything to Brenda except good night.

As much as she wanted nothing else to do with people that day, she decided to pick up dinner from the Leaky Cauldron rather than attempt to cook something. Hopefully Hannah would be working and Lavender could hide in a corner until it was ready. She was still in the mood for red meat so she ordered steak and potatoes, light on the potatoes. Hannah gave her a sympathetic look at that comment, though it was tempered with a light laugh. She brought Lavender a cup of cider while she waited, and Lavender wrapped her hands around the warm cup gratefully.

She traced the counters to the wards on her door with a sigh and then walked in. Immediately she stopped – the light was on already in her house, and the sound of someone in her kitchen was surprising. This close to the full moon she could tell it was Seamus after only half a breath, and rather than reassuring her, it through her into a world of confusion. Rather than just stand in the door like an idiot, she walked into her house quietly, going all the way through to the kitchen. She wasn't going to skulk around like a kicked dog, not in her own house. She had nothing to be ashamed of.

Lavender walked straight to the kitchen and set down her bag of carry-out on the counter. She heard rather than saw Seamus pause in his cooking, and heard rather than saw the rustle of his clothing when he turned to her. "You look... hi." He cut himself off before he could finish his first though, and it made her mouth twist in sourness.

"It was the full moon last night, of course I look awful," she said, not trying as hard as she perhaps should have been to keep the anger out of her voice. Part of it was anger at her situation, of course, but a lot of it was anger at him as well.

"Shit, Lav, I'm sorry. Are you okay?" She still refused to look at him but she could tell he had passed a hand over his face, perhaps in regret or remorse.

"I'm fine," she bit out. She walked over to a cupboard and pulled out a plate, dumping her steak and potatoes onto it. She couldn't contain a watery laugh when a big slab of steak, nearly a pound of meat, and three tiny potatoes rolled out onto the plate. Hannah was wonderful.

"I was going to make you dinner," Seamus said, voice slightly hurt.

"Well, I didn't know if you were going to decide to come home tonight or not," she replied, fishing a fork and knife out of the cutlery drawer. She ended up eating more off the knife than the fork. It fit her mood – grey and sharp and dangerous.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He asked. The hurt was gone, replaced by a quiet rumble of anger. Maybe she was trying to start something that she shouldn't. Maybe she didn't care.

"I know you didn't come home the other night. Where were you sleeping?"

She heard an irritable sigh from him. "I'm not cheating on you, Lavender."

"I know," she said.

"How do you know that? Maybe I am. Maybe I'm lying to you!" He burst out. She didn't know what he was getting so upset about – he was the one missing and abandoning her, after all. "Hell, Lavender, I'm just busy at work. Don't worry."

"I could smell it if you were with someone else. I know you're not lying." She paused for a moment, trying to contain her roiling emotions. "I just don't know why you're staying away."

"I'm trying to catch someone who's after you!" Seamus responded. His voice was not calm like hers was, but rising in volume. "I'm trying to make this country safer for you!"

"I don't want to be safer!" She shouted back, control snapping. She whirled around to face him, staring him straight in the eyes with her own yellowish ones. She saw him try to contain a flinch and knew that this close to the full moon, she still looked like a wild thing, like some wild animal in a human body. She hated it. "I know what it's like to be afraid, I lived with that all last year! There was someone after us then too, but we didn't back down, and we didn't leave each other to go haring off on our own to fight him! We're stronger together Seamus, so why are you leaving me?" She took a shaking breath, feeling a burning in her eyes she knew heralded tears. "Why are you leaving me?"

"I'm not leaving you," he replied, sounding so bizarrely confused that she couldn't help but steal a glance at him. He was staring at her, the worry and fear and hurt so present in his eyes that it broke her heart just a little.

"You haven't been around." Her voice was thick with stifled tears. "You haven't been around, and you didn't come home the other night, and you weren't there when I woke up this morning, and we haven't spoken in days. Maybe you're trying to protect me, but really you're just hurting me." Lavender took a deep, bracing breath when she stopped talking. He seemed so convinced that he wasn't leaving her but she didn't dare hope he meant that.

He sighed quietly, then she heard gentle footsteps walking over to her. She inhaled sharply when he took her by the shoulders, even though his hands were gentle. It felt like weeks since anyone had touched her, and that gesture alone went farther towards reassuring her than anything he could have said. He did love her, scars and full moon antics and worries included. She just had to remember that.

"I never want to hurt you," he said lowly, Irish brogue making her melt just a little. "Let's just go to bed. I won't leave without saying goodbye tomorrow."

"Okay," she whispered in return. Not talking about their problems didn't seem to be the way to fix them, but for the time she was just grateful he was there, and talking to her at all, and saying he wasn't going to hurt her. It wasn't enough for the morning and the light of day when she knew all her fears would return, but it was enough for the night.

He tucked an arm around her when they got into bed. She was exhausted enough to fall asleep almost instantly, her body battered from the effects of the full moon, but the last thing she heard when she drifted off was the sound of his quiet breaths, even and slow, and decidedly not asleep.

When she woke, it was as he kissed her forehead and left before the dawn properly broke. The quiet click of the door was a final sound and it brought on all the tears she had contained the last few nights.


	6. Chapter 6

Lavender tried to take things easy for the few days leading up to Christmas, resting her body and mind after her most recent full moon experience and trying to prepare for the emotional turmoil she knew would be the holiday. Seamus stayed the nights at her house but they didn't speak, and he continued his trend of returning after she was asleep and leaving before she woke. Brenda closed the shop down two days before Christmas and left for the south of France and Lavender just about drove herself insane with all the spare time she suddenly found herself with.

She didn't sleep Christmas Eve, instead remaining up all night with her thoughts. She remembered when she was little, waiting anxiously with her sister for their parents to hide their presents under the tree and hoping against hope for snow in their little home in the suburbs of London. Things had been so much simpler then, and while she missed the little girl she had been, she wouldn't go back to being that scatter-brained fool who was so enraptured with a boy she didn't see how in love he was with someone else.

She drifted off to sleep and woke in her own bed. The smells lingering in the air were enough to tell her that Seamus had come and gone, depositing her in bed from the couch and tucking her in, but that he hadn't stayed. Sighing lightly and trying not to think too hard on that that meant, she got up and fixed herself breakfast, brooding on what to do at her family's place.

Lavender chose her clothing carefully for her visit, selecting a cream colored sweater that had a high collar but wasn't a turtleneck. Just because she was ashamed of her scars didn't mean she wanted to cover them up for her family. They were supposed to love her no matter what, like the Weasleys did with Bill, and she couldn't help but harbor a little resentment for her mother and father and sister, who were all scared of her. She also donned a pair of dark, opaque leggings and a green skirt to go over them, as well as applying her usual liberal coats of foundation and powder to cover the lesser scars. She left her hair down to help cover the marks on her temple and the nearly-healed gashes down her neck.

When she showed up in the afternoon, carrying her presents in a basket and her wand in her other hand, she looked at her childhood house with the eyes of an outsider. Her parents didn't seem to want her to call it home anymore and so slowly it was becoming the house of a stranger. It wasn't a comfortable feeling, but rather one she was resigned to.

The door was answered by her sister Daphne. The younger girl wrapped her in a quick hug, eyes brushing over Lavender's scars like oil on water. "No Seamus? Mum and Dad wanted to see him." Her sister asked, always terribly blunt.

"He's working," Lavender replied shortly, stepping into the house to curtail any other personal questions. She would like to see Seamus too.

Dinner wasn't quite as awkward as she had feared it was going to be. The last time her parents had seen her in person was the day before the full moon a few months ago, and she had been... wild, to put it delicately. Maybe the solution to her problems with her parents was just to go after the full moon, when she was still tired from the night and recovering from having the blood hum in her veins.

They exchanged gifts after dinner. Most of what Lavender received was gift certificates. It was less personal – her mother used to give her a beautiful dress every Christmas, but Lavender supposed with her new scars her mother would find that distasteful – than usual, but she appreciated the thought nontheless. They shared a glass of wine by the fire and Lavender excused herself around nine. Her family made the usual noises to get her to stay, but she could hear the slight notes of relief in her mother's voice as she said it, and she gave them her regrets and swept out the door before the tears could start. It didn't matter how many times she told them she wasn't a werewolf.

When Lavender left her parent's house, she was delighted to feel the first few flakes of snow. When she looked up the sky was a strange grey that reflected the orange lights of the city around her, promising a night of snow. It made her happy and she had a slight smile on her face all the way home, stopping only a few times to try and catch snowflakes on her tonight. It felt like such a silly, childish thing to do, but it made her remember the Hogwarts winters before everything fell apart and that was a memory she hoped to cling to as long as possible.

The wine in her system, even though it was only a small amount, made her feel lighter than usual. She poured another glass for herself when she got home, fishing a dusty bottle out of a cupboard. She couldn't find a wineglass (she wasn't even sure she had any) and so settled for wine in a tea mug and then went over to stare out her window at the falling snow. She pulled a blanket around her shoulders against the cold seeping in through the poorly-fit windowpanes. The snow was falling more thickly now, fast flakes hitting the ground and sticking.

Seamus came in that night late, as his new usual was. He seemed surprised to see her up and standing in the window. "Merry Christmas," he said, a hint of uncertainty in his voice. They tiptoed around each other like they were on cracking ice now, and Lavender felt a stab of sadness in her heart as she smiled up at him. "Merry Christmas," she returned, looking at the clock on the mantle and seeing that it was long past midnight and so not really Christmas any more.

"I'm sorry I'm late," he muttered.

She nodded as if accepting his apology, but the silence still hung heavy and hurt on the air. If he was really sorry about coming home so late, on Christmas of all nights, he wouldn't have done it. Or he would have let her know, rather than just hoping she would be asleep and slipping in like a thief.

The silver and gold of his wrapped presents on the mantle caught her attention and she stood to go get them, letting her blanket fall to the couch. The flat was cool and she felt the hairs raise on her arms and goosebumps form, but she ignored them as she fetched his presents and went to stand in front of him. She could feel the cold from the outside radiating from his leather jacket and see beads of water where snowflakes had clung to him. His hair was mussed and wet as well and she wanted to

"Do you want to open your presents?" She asked, offering them to him hesitantly. They made eye contact briefly and she tried a smile. "It's Christmas, after all."

The look he gave her back when he met her eyes was full of hope and fear all at once, and it broke her heart just a little. "Yeah," he agreed, slipping a hand into his own pocket. "I have your present too."

They went to sit on the couch and he drew out a small box wrapped in green paper. They traded gifts and she picked delicately at the paper. He was much less careful about his, tearing into the paper with an excitement that made her laugh a little. He had unwrapped his completely by the time she had carefully set the green paper aside.

She popped open a small black velvet box to reveal a lump of glossy white-blue stone set in shining gold on a fine gold chain. "It's a moonstone," Seamus explained quietly. "One of the people on the case says it can sometimes help with a werewolf's full moon experience. I know you're not a werewolf, but I thought that since the full moon can be really hard for you sometimes..."

"Thank you," she said with what felt like her first genuine smile in days. She leaned forward and kissed him gently, letting her lips linger on his and breathing in his scent. He let out a breath and pulled her to him, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and cupping her cheek with his other hand, mouth moving against hers with a wanting that stirred her desire. Heat flashed across her body and she moaned lowly into him, sliding across the couch to press herself up against him, ignoring his cold jacket and wet hair, only wanting to lose herself in him like she had over the summer.

He seemed just as desperate to cling to her, twining a hand through her curls and drawing her close, their breaths entangling. She undid his jacket with nimble fingers, pushing it down over his shoulders with a force that surprised him. He drew back from her for just a moment to give her a half smile before she closed the gap between them again and stripped him of his shirt as well. Her sweater was quick to follow and then their skin was pressed together. She could hear and feel his heartbeat frantic against his ribs, mirroring her own.

Seamus drew back once more, eyes hot with lust and desire, then picked her up and carried her to their bedroom. When he lay her down on the bed he did so with exquisite tenderness that belied the look on his eyes and the heat of his body.

There was a desperation to their lovemaking that Lavender hated. The sex was amazing, as it always was with someone who you had known for so long, who had had all the time needed to discover the particular parts of each other's bodies that were the best ones for evoking a response, but there was a desperation to their touches that made Lavender want to cringe away. It wasn't like the first time with a stranger, because there was a frenetic excitement to that kind of sex. No, instead it felt like two people clinging to something that had ended a long time ago, and that feeling alone was enough to make her feel like crying.

After, he lay sleeping in their bed while she sat on the side of it, staring out the window at the still falling snow. With a quiet rustle of the sheets she stood up, turning around and tucking the sheets up over Seamus's shoulders to keep him warm. She padded back out into the living room and fetched her present, slipping the gold chain of the moonstone over her head. It settled against her sternum, the metal cool but quickly heating to match her skin. The moonstone itself seemed to glow gently in the darkness as she examined it.

It was a sweet present, and it did seem to calm her roiling emotions slightly. Of course, she wasn't sure if that was because he was here and she was awake and he had given her a gift to remind her that he still loved her or if it was because of the moonstone itself. It was good of him to try and help her with her new life. At the same time, he wouldn't know anything about moonstones unless he was on this stupid case, trying to hunt down some rogue werewolf in the name of protecting her. She'd rather have him around than a necklace.

She walked over to the window and looked out at the snow outside, which was now several inches thick, and felt incredibly alone even though Seamus was just one room over.


	7. Chapter 7

Lavender stayed awake the rest of the night, not that there was much of it left. She would be exhausted the next day, but she wanted to see Seamus before he left. Maybe he would stay for a little while. The snow stopped around five in the morning. She took Seamus's leather jacket from the peg by the door and slipped it around her shoulders, breathing in the scent of him deeply. She didn't have shoes on and the feeling of the cold fresh snow beneath her feet almost made her yelp.

The snow had muffled the usual city noises and the whole world seemed blanketed in a peaceful silence. Even her neighbors were still asleep, and some of them were usually early risers. No one had set foot outside her building yet so when she turned slightly to look at her footprints, her bare feet had left the only marks in the snow. She reached down and made a snowball, packing the snow together firmly. Two months ago she would have snuck back inside with this and thrown it in Seamus's face to wake him up.

That thought drew a sigh from her and she dropped the snowball. Suddenly feeling the cold, she went back into her flat and hung Seamus's jacket back up on its peg before going in to the kitchen to start breakfast. She knew he'd be waking up soon and she wanted to catch him before he had a chance to sneak out again. Last night had been wonderful but also confusing and saddening, and Lavender felt like she had to get some kind of answer from him about what they had become.

She rummaged through the cupboards hoping to find something that would work for breakfast, but with the recent full moon and her reluctance to go out into public around the holidays (and with her scars), the pantry was looking bare. She had toast and some frozen sausages so she went ahead and started heating those over the stove. Water, of course, had been set to boil and by the time she hushed the kettle she heard Seamus moving around in her bedroom.

Lavender felt her heart jump, which was ridiculous. It was like she was scared of him, which was absolutely not true. She knew he would never hurt her... well, that wasn't strictly right. He would never mean to hurt her, but he would do it anyway. Something about this morning, pre-dawn light felt final, like whatever happened in the next few moments would decide their future. It was a ridiculous, dramatic thought and she tried to push it aside, to no avail.

Instead, she fixed the tea very deliberately, trying to keep each step of the process perfect. Parvati had suggested to her once that when Lavender felt like she was losing control of her life and her emotions, she started being overly controlling in other aspects of her life, lick schoolwork and the way she folded her clothes. Lavender had brushed it off when Parvati mentioned it (that had been towards the tail end of that absolute _fiasco_ with Ron in sixth year) but then towards seventh year when the world had been falling apart, she had taken it more to heart. So, she poured the water over the tea strainer just so, to the perfect three quarter inch below the rim of the mug.

She then set to slicing toast, ignoring the slight tremble of her hands on the bread and knife, intent on making each slice the perfect half inch. Too soon, he came into the kitchen, looking around with his hair adorably mussed from both sex and sleep. Her hands jerked with his entrance, ruining the fifth slice of toast. She quickly put that to the side, pretending like it hadn't happened. She smiled at him, the tremble in her fingers also present in her smile. "Morning," she greeted.

He yawned. "You're up early."

Lavender shrugged, trying her best to feign nonchalance. "I wasn't too tired." That was a lie. "Sorry there's not much for breakfast. It's been a strange few days."

He brushed off her apologies and took the plate and mug of black tea she handed him. They ate in silence, Lavender picking at her toast and devouring her sausages despite the nervous fear that had lodged into the pit of her stomach. Seamus ate like he usually did, stuffing his face and clearing his plate in the space of a few moments. "Thanks Lav," he said once he put down his fork.

"There's more," she offered, half rising to go back to the skillet of sausages.

"I can't," he said. She stilled, standing over the table and drawing in a deep breath. "I've got to be at the office all day today. I won't be home until late."

"Of course you won't," she sighed.

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"You work all the time now, Seamus. I'm just commenting on it." Maybe if she pretended like it didn't bother her it wouldn't. That thought almost made her laugh at her own naivete. It had been too many years and too many scars for her to be some stupid little girl like that anymore, waiting and waiting on a man and pretending to be okay with it.

"I'm doing my work to protect you, Lavender, we've talked about that."

Lavender went to stand by the sink and wrapped her arms around herself, staring out the kitchen window like it held the secrets to this conversation. "You've told me about that. We haven't talked about anything."

"What?" He sounded legitimately confused and another time she would have shook her head at him and laughed about him being such a boneheaded _boy_. But that was another time, and now it just made her sad.

"I miss you, Seamus. I never get to see you any more. Even if you are doing this all to protect me, you're really just hurting me. I can take care of myself if a werewolf comes for me. I can't begin to tell you how sad I will be if you leave me." She was careful to keep her voice low and steady, trying to choose her words with care.

It didn't work. She flinched when he smacked the table, making the plates and silverware and tea mugs jump and clatter back down. "Damn it, Lavender, I'm not leaving you! I'm home every night, I'm here for you when you need anything, you know that!"

"Except that I don't, not anymore!" She shot back, whirling around to face him. He was staring at her with confusion and anger all swirled into one expression and it hurt her even more to know that she was the cause of that. But she couldn't back down, not now. "We've spoken twice in the last two weeks! You're constantly gone at work. You come home late, if you come home at all, and you leave early. You weren't there when I woke up from the full moon the other night, and the worst thing about that was that I knew you weren't going to be there! How do you think that makes me feel, Seamus?"

Yelling was only going to make things worse. Seamus never backed down from a fight, not that he and Lavender had had many before. But his passion had made him an invaluable asset the past year in the DA, and she had seen very well before that he would never give in. It used to make her feel like he would fight for her until the end of time, but now it just felt like he had given his all to a new cause. It didn't matter if it was done in her name. She just wanted him back.

"I'm trying to protect you!" He shouted again. "You know that! Someone out there wants to kill you and I'm going to get him before he gets you!"

"And after that, things will go back to normal?" She asked. She didn't want to yell, but she couldn't fight the bitter resentment that practically dripped from her voice. "After that, you'll go back to working regular hours? After that, you'll come home and we'll talk on the couch like we used to? You'll make dinner Friday night and be there for me after the full moon, every time?"

"Yes!" Seamus yelled, staring at her. She raised her eyebrows at him and he crumpled a little. "I – I don't know. I'm going to be an Auror, Lavender, it's not a regular job."

"Not a seamstress like me," she said, regretting it as she did. Then again, he had said it first.

"I didn't mean that." His voice was quiet as he denied the accusation again. "You know I didn't mean it like that."

"I do know that," she said, voice lowering to match his. "But you still said it. And you're still gone when I need you. And I don't want to need you, Seamus, I don't want to need anyone. But right now, I do."

There was silence for a few moments before he took his plate to the sink and walked out of the kitchen. She followed him into the living room, watching as he gathered his things to leave. "Stay with me," she said suddenly, surprising both herself and him.

"What?"

"Stay with me today. It's the day after Christmas, you can take a day off. Don't go to the office today. Stay with me." She was asking him to do a lot more than just stay with her for the day, and they both knew it. "Stay with me," she asked again, hating the shaking in her voice, despising herself for pleading with him.

Seamus met her eyes for just a moment before donning his jacket and shaking his head. "I can't. I'll try to get off early tonight and be here for dinner, okay?"

Lavender drew in a a deep breath before shaking her own head. "Don't bother." She bit her lip to keep the tears from starting, hard enough to draw blood. Just because he made her cry didn't mean he had to see her do it. "Just go."

He seemed for just a second like he was going to argue but then he swore darkly, the profanity hanging on the air between them, and then walked out the door and slammed it behind him. She heard his footsteps in the snow outside hurrying away, and then she broke down crying, collapsing onto the couch. He wasn't coming back, she knew that as sure as she knew her name. She grabbed the moonstone tightly in her hand, as if hoping that if she held it hard enough, she would hear him returning. But that was a dream, and she knew better than to believe in dreams.


	8. Chapter 8

The weather warmed up just barely and the snow turned to cold slush in the streets. Between the waning moon and what had happened with Seamus, Lavender felt drained beyond belief. She was grateful that Brenda had closed the store, because she knew if she tried to make it in to work she would probably just collapse. She spent most of the next few days hiding in her flat, barely eating and trying not to lose herself to tears. Tears weren't going to fix anything.

On the third day after he walked out her door, she left the flat to go shopping. She ended up with mostly meat in her shopping bags, more sausages and steaks than she properly knew what to do with. Making herself eat was a chore, and especially with the moon waning she didn't feel the voracious hunger that the wolf forced upon her. She just felt so alone. Even when Seamus had been gone until late, he had still been around... most nights anyway. She couldn't be sorry for saying what she had said, and she wouldn't apologize.

Still, feeling like she was being abandoned was better than actually being abandoned, though Lavender supposed that at least she knew where she actually stood with him now. But since that was lower than his job on the scale of importance, she didn't feel particularly good about it.

She spent much of her time curled up in a blanket when she wasn't forcing herself outside. She tried not to cry too much – after all, this wasn't unexpected. It was strange to be single again, after Seamus had been there for her through the horrors of the past year, and after she had been there for him. They hadn't been inseparable but they had been close, especially towards the end of the year. After winter break, the Carrows had cracked down on troublemakers. Seamus, always the firebrand, had been hurt more often than she could keep track of.

One time, some poor little second year had spilled ink on the She-Carrow's robes. The girl had been shaking in fear while the She-Carrow shouted, promising a world of pain for the poor girl. Lavender, sick of the treatment of her classmates, had swept forward to put a hand on the second year's shoulder. Seamus had mouthed off to the Carrows at the beginning of the year and he'd gotten beat up for it. Neville had restarted the DA with Ginny's help, along with Luna Lovegood from Ravenclaw and Ernie MacMillian from Hufflepuff, and they'd quickly realized that the worst that could happen was a beating.

Since then they had grown bolder, and Lavender hadn't had any hesitation in moving up to support the little Ravenclaw girl. She had heard rustles behind her, like other people were planning on moving up, but her attention had been fixed solely on the She-Carrow. "It's just ink," she had said, trying to keep calm. Shouting didn't help calm these people down, she had found out that one quickly. Seamus shouted, Ginny shouted, Ernie would punch someone, and Lavender and Parvati just tried to keep things calm. "It can be removed with a simple charm."

Gently, she had ushered the terrified Ravenclaw girl behind her, hoping to shield the twelve year old from the wrath of a woman who had long lost any semblance of humanity.

"I shouldn't have to remove it! That little brat should watch where she's walking!" Alecto had screeched, and Lavender felt her temper fraying.

"_Scourgify_," Lavender had muttered, pointing her wand at the hem of Alecto's robes. In retrospect, that had been a bad idea. Despite how harmless the charm was, the use of magic had really set the older woman off, and with a bang, Lavender had felt herself thrown backwards through the air to land hard on her back, nearly flattening the Ravenclaw girl.

There had been a sudden roar and Seamus had bulled through the crowd with a sudden rush, wand drawn. Before Lavender could tell him to not attack Alecto, Neville had intercepted the irate Irishman and wrestled his arms behind his back and Parvati slipped forward to help pick Lavender up off the floor. Some Ravenclaws had helped up their housemate as well and the whole pack of students had dispersed.

Lavender's back and shoulder had been badly bruised, but it wasn't anything time and a little bruise salve couldn't handle. Parvati had applied the bruise salve gently and they had talked quietly about Seamus.

"He loves you, you have to see that," Parvati had said.

Lavender had shaken her head in response. "We just like messing around. He's not serious about me, and I'm not serious about him. We're just having fun."

"But how he reacted when the She-Carrow hexed you... Lavender, come on. You're smarter about feelings than this," Parvati had chided her.

"Okay, fine," Lavender acquiesced, nodding a little. "Say he's serious about me and I'm serious about him. What do we do after this year? The likelihood of us both surviving the big fight Neville has planned is so low, and I don't want to fall in love with someone who's just going to die, or have someone fall in love with me if I die."

"Stop being so practical," Parvati had scolded her, smearing the last of the bruise salve over Lavender's right shoulder and coming around to sit in front of her friend on the bed. "You never used to be. You used to think love would win over all."

"Until this year, that was true," Lavender had agreed. "But then I think – and I think this scares me more than if we die – what if we survive? What if we survive and live together and we don't actually work? What if we just have amazing sex and there's no connection once we're safe? Or what if we're not safe after this year? There's too much riding on this year to risk it all on hope."

Parvati had shaken her head and cleaned up the bruise salve quietly, taking the bowl back to the cabinet where they stored it. "He still loves you," she had said quietly. "You can deny it if you want, but it's true."

Lavender wrapped her arms around her knees as she sat on the couch and thought of that memory. Maybe he had loved her, even back then. She hadn't loved him because she hadn't let herself even think about love that year. She had told him on the morning after the Battle of Hogwarts that she loved him, and the way he had made her feel then, his instant response of those same words, had made her feel like the most cherished thing in the whole world.

That had been before she had seen the scars tearing up her body. She had been riding so high on adrenaline it had taken him to get her to calm down long enough to tend to her hurts, and he had been even more delicate than Parvati had as he cleaned her wounds and bandaged and salved them. She shouldn't have been alive, the Healers had told her, much less standing and walking around. But she was, and he was, and he had taken them to a place that had been untouched by war and they had made love in the sunrise before returning to the real world.

It was perhaps the best memory of her life, shadowed closely by the first time he had kissed her. That had been after the Yule Ball in fourth year – thank Merlin Harry had been in her year, because she got to go – and she had floated all the way back up the stairs and hadn't shut up about it for two weeks, much to Parvati's annoyance. Nothing had really come of it but that had been perfectly fine, as it was the best first kiss any girl could ever have. She hadn't ever told him it was her first kiss.

Too many thoughts of Seamus now whirling around in her head, Lavender stood up suddenly and decided to go out. She needed noise and distraction and company, even if no one talked to her and only looked at her scars in horror. At least it would be the usual hurt rather than this new, unbearably painful one. She slipped into a pair of jeans that she might have worn to work the day before and threw on a ragged old shirt, not much caring how she looked.

The walk to the Leaky Cauldron was quick. She had chosen this flat because it was close to Diagon Alley and the robe shop she worked at. The Leaky was a din that she could hear three streets away, and when she turned the corner she could see people and light spilling out of it. Perfect.

It didn't take her long to get more than a little roasted. Hannah was there but kept so busy running by the other patrons she wasn't around to notice that Lavender was already on her fourth shot of firewhiskey. By the time Hannah did recognize her drunken friend, Lavender felt like the world wasn't moving quite like it usually did, and she was confused as to why balancing on the barstool was as complicated as riding a broom, all of a sudden.

"Oh Merlin, Lavender," Hannah sighed, coming around to the other side of the bar and resting a steadying hand on her friend's shoulder.

"He left me," Lavender hiccuped.

Hannah stilled. "Beg pardon?"

"He just... he just walked out. Like he didn't care. Like he never cared. I told Parvati it would happen after last year, but she said he loved me too much for that. Wrong. She was wrong," Lavender hiccuped twice, then continued, trying to focus on Hannah. "She was _wrong_. Parvati wasn't s'posed to be wrong. She was so _good_ at Divinimation, so much better than me..."

"Okay," Hannah sighed as Lavender trailed off. "Bedtime for you, miss. Up you get."

Lavender was practically carried by Hannah up the stairs to a spare room that Hannah unlocked with a key from a ring on her belt. "We can talk about Seamus in the morning, you just get some sleep."

"Can't sleep." At Hannah's look, Lavender explained further. "When I sleep, I dream. About Seamus, about Parvati, about war. About wolves. Sleep reminds me."

"That's okay," Hannah said. "Just sleep here tonight. We'll talk in the morning." She left briefly, returning with a glass of water and a hangover remedy. "Drink this when you wake up, or you'll regret it. You'll be safe here tonight."

It was the reassurance of safe, of knowing that Hannah was downstairs, and the substantial amount of alcohol in her system that let Lavender doze off, passing out against the pillows as Hannah tucked the covers up to her chin. "Sleep, Lavender. It's all okay." It wasn't okay, but Hannah was sweet to say so, Lavender thought as she drifted off. Nothing was okay.


	9. Chapter 9

With the passing of the New Year came the new moon, and Lavender embraced the clarity of mind it provided like she had never done before. She threw herself into her work at the shop, once Brenda reopened after the holidays, and often was gone from home for nearly twelve hours. She came home exhausted every night and often went to sleep with her work clothes on, too tired to remove them. She didn't want a moment to think, because thinking brought back memories and even the good memories were painful.

Brenda loved the enthusiasm, but did express some concern as the days passed and Lavender's feverish working didn't cease. Lavender brushed those concerns and comments aside – she didn't need sleep, she needed to forget.

What she didn't need was any more drinks, and even remembering the headache she had had when she woke up in Hannah's small room in the Leaky Cauldron was enough to make her wince. The hangover potion had helped slightly but Lavender had never been the sort to drink all that much. As such, she had been wildly overestimating what four – had it been five? – drinks would do to her. She had woken up and felt like she'd been run over by a bus, and then was promptly sick all over the floor.

Hannah had come in to check on her soon after that, and when she discovered Lavender moaning quietly in the bed and seen the vomit on the floor she had given her a sympathetic look and started cleaning. Lavender had tried to apologize and Hannah brushed it off by simply saying, "We all have our ways of dealing with our demons."

Maybe working was her new method of coping with her demons. Maybe working had been Seamus's method too. Lavender had had demons from the war too, of course, but Seamus's had driven him fiercely. When Lavender remembered the horrors of the battle, most of her memories were wrapped up with the werewolf who had savaged her, Fenrir Greyback. It had been the worst night of her life, she'd been in more pain than she could imagine, but it didn't haunt her like the battle seemed to have haunted Seamus.

He'd seen his best friend die, seen his classmates ripped and blown apart, and he had taken it all personally. Seamus had always worn his heart on his sleeve. It was why Neville made a better commander of the DA, and why Ginny made a better captain of Gryffindor. Seamus was all rage and fire and passion. Point him in the right direction, tell him to protect his friends, and he wouldn't let anything stop him.

It was one of the things that had endeared him to her. Lavender had felt safe around him in a way that belied the realities of their seventh year. When they would sleep together he would wrap his arms around her and hold her close, close enough that she would wake up with the scent of him still on her shoulders and her neck and in her hair. He made her feel safe without even trying and she had carried that feeling with her through the darkest points of the year.

But now she was alone again, and there was no one to comfort her against her fears. Hannah helped, of course, but Lavender didn't want to bother her. Hannah and Neville had become the people that the members of the DA would fall on when they were struggling, and Lavender didn't want to give them another person to care for. She knew Neville still saw Seamus nearly every day, as they had Auror training together, but she refused to ask about him. There was no point in willingly rubbing salt in her own wounds.

She didn't take off the moonstone, even though every time she saw it she felt like someone had punched her in the gut. With the new moon it had dimmed down to barely a shimmer, easily hidden beneath the high necks of the clothes she usually wore to work. It felt warm on her skin even against the icy wind of the winter and how cold she felt inside.

Finally, Brenda insisted that Lavender took a day off. Despite Lavender's protests, Brenda wouldn't accept no for an answer. So that was why, one morning nearly two weeks after Seamus had gone, Lavender woke up with nothing to do and the light feeling of fear in her belly. What was she supposed to do with herself to keep from thinking?

She started with a run. It was cold and the wind bit at her through her running clothes, but at least the run and exertion and cold focused her. She had run a lot in preparation for the final battle – they all had, because Neville insisted on fitness – but she hadn't done much of it recently and forcing her muscles to comply was good. It did bring back memories of the Room of Requirement turning itself into a gym and track for them and that was bittersweet. They had all been so young and eager, even if Lavender had found herself shaking from exhaustion on a nightly basis due to the regimen they had been put through.

Still, after the first ten minutes of agony she remembered how much she had learned to enjoy running, and her legs took her another half hour before she started to feel too much of a burn to continue. Lavender walked back to her flat at a much more sedate pace, breathing the cold air deeply and wiping sweat off her brow. She did feel better for the exercise, and resolved to do it again the next morning.

Well, perhaps not the next morning, she thought as she climbed the flight of stairs with her legs screaming in protest. The morning after, then.

She set to cleaning her house and doing her laundry. She organized her books on the shelf and tried to harden her heart when she went through the drawers of things Seamus kept. Most of it was gone – he must have come in some time when she was gone and taken his clothes. Still, he'd left a few things. A old sweater she threw in with the rest of her laundry as mercilessly as possibly, trying to avoid the scent of it that wafted gently into her nose. A picture of the Gryffindor boys in their fifth year, which she set carefully aside. Some old candy wrappers, which she tossed.

There was nothing of her, and she wasn't sure if that made it worse or better. She had noticed that he had taken a few photographs of them from the mantle with him when he left, or at least that's what she assumed. The one of them at the Christmas party the DA had held before winter break was gone, as was the 'class photo,' as Colin Creevey had called it, taken in late October of the previous year of all the members of the DA. Lavender had her own copies of the photographs but she had preferred Seamus's versions, as he had carried them with him though the hell of the last year and it had taken all her powers of persuasion to convince him to put them in frames rather than his pocket after the war was over.

Sighing, she fished out her own copy of the class photo, slipping it into a spare frame and putting it up on the mantle. She didn't get out her copy of the one of the two of them at the Christmas party. She knew it by memory anyway – his arm around her shoulder, his lips brushing her cheek as she laughed and blushed in a short green dress. No werewolf scars then, just a light, nearly faded cut across her jaw from where the She-Carrow had slammed her head against a desk with a misplaced Cruciatus. The Christmas party was a good memory but she didn't need to relive it, not without knowing that it would bring back the feelings of confusion and hurt and loneliness.

Once her laundry was folded and put away, Lavender found herself tapping her fingers anxiously as she sipped a cup of tea. For the new moon, she was unbearably restless. Of course, it probably had nothing to do with the moon. But still, she felt the need to go out, to lose herself in a crowd somewhere and be surrounded by people. Not the Leaky Cauldron, not after the last time she had gone there and royally embarrassed herself in front of Hannah. But she needed to go somewhere and it was a Friday night, after all. Maybe she could find a little fun.

She walked over to her closet and pulled out a long sleeved dress and a pair of leggings. Winter did make dressing easier than summer when it came to hiding her scars. The dress was black and fit her mood, the leggings dark purple. Lavender pulled her knee high boots with the silencing charm on the heels over the leggings and then liberally applied foundation and makeup to cover her scars. She kept the moonstone tucked beneath the high collared dress. She didn't know where she was planning on ending up and she didn't want it missing in the morning if she found herself in some scummy pub.

Stepping out her door, she traced the patterns to seal the hexes. It was barely nightfall as she walked away from her flat and towards the entrance to Diagon Alley. There were a number of pubs on side-streets off of Diagon Alley, but more than that, it was the gateway to a number of other streets that the wizarding population frequented. She'd been down Knockturn Alley only once before, on a dare before fourth year.

Tonight she was feeling dangerous. There were a number of back street pubs that catered to the inhuman or the less-desired members of the population. She'd never been to one of the werewolf establishments before but she did know of a few. Maybe she could lose herself there for a night. After all, it wasn't like they could turn her. Lavender didn't know for a fact that she couldn't be made a werewolf if bitten at the full moon, but she did know that a werewolf's bite outside the full moon wouldn't make her a werewolf.

She walked down the side of Diagon Alley until she reached a turn for Knockturn Alley. She didn't travel very far down Knockturn before finding another side street with a sign that said Daggerton Road. Hesitating for only half a breath, she made her way down Daggerton. It was lined with shops of dubious nature, things in the windows that would have made her shrink away had she not been carefully maintaining her image of self-confidence. This was the kind of place young witches got killed if not careful, but Lavender hadn't survived the hell of the previous year to be offed by some nutcase down a dark street.

The place she was heading for made itself known with the number of people around it. It was a Friday night, after all, and she would have been surprised to find an empty pub. Still, the crowd around it was also surprising. Lavender hadn't thought that a werewolf bar would be of interest to most people, and she could almost smell the humans around the Half Moon Tavern.

There wasn't much of an issue getting in. She gave a few men a glare that could peel paint when they looked at her, and whirled around with a snarl on her face when she felt a hand on her bum. Something in her sensed the presence of wolves here and rose to defend itself accordingly, and while it scared Lavender more than a little to be snarling at someone without the full moon around to excuse her for it, it was clearly the right reaction. When she met his eyes he backed off, looking away and raising his hands in a strange blend of human and wolf surrender.

It gave Lavender the confidence to push her way forward to the bar and order a glass of wine. There weren't many women here, and the few there were seemed much older than she was herself. The reaction she'd given to being pawed at was clearly enough to keep most of the men at bay and she was grateful to the strange, wild part of herself that had had that reaction. She sat down at the bar and took her wine in one hand, laying the other carefully in front of her. Everything she did here was calculated. She could feel the stares on her back, eyeing her lithe form. She could count at least six individual scents of different werewolves in the tavern, and while she didn't know exactly what she smelled like to them, she guessed they could identify her as someone with at least a little wolfish blood in her.

Despite her snarls from earlier, it wasn't long before someone approached her. Lavender looked him over blatantly as he walked up. Shaggy brown hair, bright hazel eyes with more than a hint of yellow, a thin mouth quirked just slightly into a smile, and three ragged claw marks running across his face. He made no effort to hide them like she was doing with hers, and as he sat down next to her she felt a hint of shame. Not shame for having the scars; no, for the first time, she felt a little ashamed of hiding them.

"I'm Brandon," he introduced himself, meeting her eyes with something like half challenge, half friendly interest, and complete romantic attraction in them.

"Lavender," she greeted in return, not looking away. If she backed down from a challenge here she'd be eaten.

"That's a pretty name," he commented, taking a drink of his beer.

Lavender shrugged. "I'm a pretty girl."

He laughed at that and they both relaxed a little. She was grateful that she hadn't totally lost her hand at flirting. "That you are," he commented. "What brings you to the Half Moon tonight?"

"I was tired of the Leaky Cauldron. I wanted something a little more my speed. To be around people a little more my type." It was a bold statement but she'd have to be blind to see he wasn't a werewolf.

"You're not a werewolf though, are you?" He asked.

Lavender was surprised with his forward question, but she nodded agreement. "I'm not. I was bitten, but not at the full moon."

"I bet that's a story."

That got a laugh out of her and she winked at him as she took another sip of her wine. "It certainly is."

A few other men tried to approach her as they talked, but Brandon had a glare and slight snarl even better than Lavender's own, which was not really surprising when she thought about it. He was a werewolf, he confirmed quickly, had been bitten at the age of six and could barely remember being human. His parents had cast him out when the full moons got to be too much to bear. He hadn't gone to school because of his condition, and he'd never gotten a wand.

Lavender couldn't contain her shock at that. "Really?" She blurted out, interrupting him. "You've never had a wand?"

He raised his eyebrows at her. "Never needed one. Anyway, not like the wanded would just give one to me now. I'm less than human, and therefore I don't deserve a wand." He said it straightforwardly, so matter-of-fact that it took her breath away. "Most of us don't have wands. There's no shame in that. We get by well enough without them."

He seemed almost defensive and Lavender quickly moved to calm him down. "Of course not. I wasn't thinking... it's shameful that you had no schooling, but that's not your fault, of course not. That's the fault of the Ministry. Werewolves have gone to Hogwarts before."

He shook his head. "Nah, not since the seventies. Something happened with a werewolf there and the Board of Governors were scared. No werewolves since then. That's why Fenrir's pack appealed to so many of us."

The name of the man she feared most in the world dropped so casually into conversation was enough to make Lavender feel like she had been plunged underwater all of a sudden. The rest of the bar dimmed in noise, her ears roared, and she couldn't breathe. Brandon didn't seem to notice. "Were you a part of that?" Lavender asked after a few seconds of silence. She almost didn't want to know the answer. This was the first conversation with someone who she hadn't gone to school with who wasn't staring at her scars in horror she had had in months.

Brandon nodded. "Not like we had a lot of options. Why?"

Lavender stood slowly, setting down her now empty glass of wine carefully and laying a sickle on the bar to pay for her drink. "You get my story after all. Fenrir Greyback was the one who savaged me as I tried to stop him from eating a child." She turned and left the Half Moon Tavern, careful not to run, careful to keep her head high and her heart rate and breathing normal, careful to not look back and admit fear.

She kept that calm, calculated pace all the way back to her apartment before she crumpled down onto the couch and allowed herself to take deep, bracing breaths. Despite her fear she was proud of the way she had handled herself. And also despite the fear, she couldn't help but wonder at Brandon's attitude towards what he had called the 'wanded,' wizards and witches who had wands. She had never heard of anyone being denied a wand unless they were a criminal. How could werewolves be denied wands and schooling strictly on the fact that they were werewolves?

It was enough to make her think, and then she suddenly realized she hadn't thought about Seamus in hours. A small smile without a trace of happiness in it crept over her face. She didn't want to remember, but she didn't want to forget either. All she wanted was to be happy and safe again, and going to a werewolf pub might not be the best option when she next felt like this.


	10. Chapter 10

Despite her misgivings, Lavender did go back to the Half Moon Tavern again. The moon was a sliver in the sky the next time she stalked in and claimed her seat at the bar. She saw Brandon once, across the room, and leveled a glare at him. Despite his alpha routine from last time, he looked away first, and that made Lavender smile without humor. She might not be a werewolf, might just have some nasty scars and wolfish tendencies, but she was not going to be pushed around by some puppy who thought it was fine to follow a man who savaged little girls.

She met some other werewolves who seemed to have the same idea about being wandless as Brandon had. They all had similar stories about their bites – they had been young, their parents had thrown them out sometime in their teens when the hormones from puberty messed badly with the emotions brought on by the full moon. Some had followed Greyback but a few hadn't, and those ones she met up with again. The more she was around the werewolves, the less she thought about Seamus.

Brenda was glad that the forced day off had helped Lavender and so she insisted that her only employee take at least two days off per week. Now that they were back in the slow season after the holidays Brenda said she didn't need as much help and gave Lavender every Sunday and Monday off. Those nights, Lavender could be found at the Half Moon.

As the moon got bigger in the sky the tensions increased at the Half Moon, but Lavender noticed that it wasn't just from the werewolves. The barkeeper seemed used to it, so she asked him why all the humans in the room would be getting hyped up about the full moon's approach.

He shrugged when she asked. "Some of 'em, they want to be werewolves an' they get excited that this month might be their chance. Crazy if you ask me. Some of 'em, they're wandless like the werewolves and they're resentful about it. Everyone that comes here is lookin' for somethin', and I've been told that the full moon brings renewal. Least, that's what I've been told."

Lavender did remember from her Astrology and Divination classes that the full moon held a lot of symbology. She had been ignoring most of her memories about that since she had been attacked, but after the barkeeper had told her that she went home and found her old schoolbooks. Brushing the dust off of them and opening them was like greeting an old friend, especially her Divination book. She and Parvati had scribbled notes all over their books, convinced that Divination was the most amazing subject.

It was a bittersweet feeling to see her best friend's handwriting all over the books, in the margins and between the lines of print. Hastily sketched drawings of tea leaves and hand lines littered the pages, along with a few hearts around the names of various boys. Lavender spent nearly an hour just reliving the memories of their early years at Hogwarts, before everything turned dark and scary, when they were only concerned about which boys were the cutest and which ones were the sweetest.

A smile touched her face as she ran her fingertips over a heart around Michael Corner's name. Parvati had been in love with him half her time at Hogwarts, and they had finally gotten together in the final year. It was amazing to her how that year had brought the different Houses together. Inter-House dating had happened, of course, but never in the numbers that it had her seventh year. They had all become more than their Houses that year – they had been true friends and a family for each other.

Lavender missed them. She missed them all.

Resolved, she shut the Divination book gently and set it on the coffee table, brushing her fingers over it with a promise to herself to do her research later. She needed to see Neville and Hannah, to tell them that she missed them. Maybe others from the DA would be around too, and she could see them.

She donned her jacket and stepped out into the night, locking her door and setting off with a smile. Her hair blew back behind her in the night wind and she loved the feel of it on her face. Even the big scars were almost closed now, though they still got red and angry if exposed to too much cold.

When she got to Neville and Hannah's, she could hear a lot of laughter inside. She took a quick scent of the air to reassure herself Seamus wasn't there. He wasn't, but she did smell other familiar scents, other members of the DA come around for a quick drink, maybe. Her smile widened and she knocked on the door.

Neville answered a few moments later, then blinked at Lavender in surprise. "Lavender, hi," he greeted. "Uh, Seamus isn't here..."

She nodded. "I know. I just wanted to come say hello. Can... can I come in?"

"Of course!" Neville said, ushering her in. "Sorry. I was just surprised to see you. Hannah!" He bellowed. "Lavender's here!"

Hannah came through into the entryway and wrapped Lavender in a hug. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Lavender started, a little confused as to why everyone seemed to be shocked to see her. Had she really been that reclusive? Yes, she realized almost immediately. Yes she had. Hannah dragged her into the kitchen and she looked around, recognizing some of the people there. Terry Boot waved at her, as did Luna Lovegood and Ginny Weasley and Michael Corner, all of them with surprised looks on their faces. There were a two other people there, clearly Aurors in training by their robes.

Hannah shoved her a little further into the kitchen and did introductions. "That's Jessica Rodriguez, Auror in training with Neville and Terry. She's from the United States. Alexei Tsarskiy is training with Michael, he's from Russia originally. Jessica, Alexei, this is Lavender Brown. She fought with us in the Battle of Hogwarts last year."

Both of them nodded their greetings and Lavender wasn't surprised when their eyes raked over her scars. In response, rather than flinching away like she was accustomed to, she brought her new attitude to bear and pretended they were looking at her like that in the Half Moon Tavern. She met Alexei's eyes and raised her eyebrows until he gave her a half smile and looked away, then did the same with Jessica. Staring down guests of Hannah's was hardly polite but Lavender didn't want to be looked at like some broken thing any more.

"Okay," Hannah said, clearly a little unsettled from watching the exchange. "Lavender, what can I get you to drink? Water, wine? We've got some beer and whiskey as well."

"Wine would be lovely, thanks Hannah."

Soon she was chatting with Terry Boot in a corner while the kitchen buzzed with conversation around her. Terry still seemed a little confused as to why she had been hiding but she didn't really want to explain in detail, and he was too polite to ask. She learned about how his Auror training was going, how they expected his class to graduate in late April, perhaps earlier. The Aurors had never had a class so ready like the DA, Terry boasted. They'd all been accelerated, along with a select few like Jessica and Alexei.

"It's amazing what a little fear of torture and planning your own death will do for aptitude," Lavender joked, drawing a laugh out of Terry. Hannah gave her a surprised look from across the kitchen. "What, Hannah?"

Hannah shook her head. "It's great to see you out, Lavender." She came over to Lavender and Terry in order to not shout across all the people. "I'm actually surprised to see you. I thought you'd been avoiding us because Seamus has been staying here sometimes."

"I knew he wasn't here tonight," Lavender replied. She hadn't known that Seamus had been staying, but she took a deep breath and detected a few traces of his scent on the air, coming from the couch in their living room.

"Dare I ask how?" Terry questioned. Maybe it was a trainee Auror thing to interrogate people.

Perhaps it would be strange to tell them why, but Lavender was trying to come to terms with what she was now. And what she was now had a powerful sense of smell, especially with the moon waxing slowly towards full. So, she gave a deliberately careless shrug and said, "I could smell that he wasn't here."

The kitchen went quiet. "Sorry, you could smell him?" Alexei asked eventually, awkwardness and incredulity in his tone even though his accent.

Lavender raised her chin and met his eyes again. "Yes. I was attacked by a werewolf. You didn't think these scars were just to cover a pretty face, did you?" Even though she had done her usual regimen of makeup and foundation and powder to blend her scars into her face, they still showed through. They always showed through. What would Alexei think of her face without the makeup? That was an amusing thought, even though a month ago it would have made her cower in the corner from shame.

He looked like he was working over what exactly to say before he cracked a grin and shrugged. "I don't think there's anything that could cover your pretty face."

She smiled at him in return, toasting him with her half-full glass of wine. "Perfect response."

The night went on more relaxed after that, and Alexei and Lavender ended up talking soon after their exchange. He had gone to school at Durmstrang but had dropped out halfway through his fifth year after his family had been killed by Dark wizards. He'd thrown himself into learning how to defend himself and others and trying to track down the murderers.

"Did you catch them?" Lavender asked.

Alexei shook his head tightly. Clearly, it was still a fresh wound. "Never did. After You-Know-Who announced himself I wanted to come fight here, but no one wanted to take an underage kid across the Channel to what they thought would be his death. After the war was over I caught a ride on the first Portkey out of France and here I am. I want to be an Auror, and after seeing what I could do they put me in the class with your friends. I was really impressed with their work, by the way. I can't believe they learned all that in seventh year."

"We all had to learn," Lavender explained. "I'm sure Neville told you we were planning a big fight at the end of term, to get the attention of the wizarding world. All the papers and Memory Charms in the world couldn't cover it up if almost half the Hogwarts students were killed at the end of the year. That was our plan."

"Neville mentioned that... wait, you fought with them?"

Lavender looked at him. "How do you think I got these scars?" She couldn't decide whether or not to be offended by his surprised tone.

"Then why aren't you in Auror training? I know Hannah's not because she wants to help her granddad with the pub, but why not you? What do you do?"

"I work at a robes shop," Lavender replied. "And I didn't join the Aurors because I didn't want to. I've had enough of fighting, if you can believe that."

Alexei laughed. "I don't think I can."

Lavender nodded. "I can tell. You're still all hyped up, just like the rest of them. You still want to hunt down and stop Dark wizards. There's nothing wrong with that at all, but after seeing how many people had died, how many of my _friends_ had died, I'd had enough death. I took time to heal my wounds, but the mental ones are still healing."

"I guess that makes sense," Alexei agreed. "There's a few of your old classmates in the training program who I can tell never really left the war behind." He paused for a moment before motioning towards her empty wine glass. "Can I get you another?"

Lavender smiled her acceptance before heading out onto Hannah and Neville's small balcony, looking out over the London night. Alexei soon joined her, handing the wine to her and leaning up against the railing next to her. "Neville's talked about you a bit," he said. "I still can't believe you're not in the Aurors, or training to be a Healer. He said you made the best Healing salves and you're a fantastic spellcaster, even under pressure."

She shook her head. "Because I trained to be. Because we drilled to be, night after night, for almost a whole year. I never wanted to be an amazing witch, I just didn't get a choice if I wanted to take down Death Eaters in our big end of the year fight. I never wanted to kill people, not ever. My best friend and I talked about opening a shop and coming up with our own fashion line for young witches. I mean, don't get me wrong, I don't regret fighting in the least. I'd do it against in a heartbeat, repercussions and all. But I never wanted to fight in a cause like that." She would do it again, even if that meant her scars. She hadn't really known that until she said it out loud. It was a good feeling.

"Well, it sounds like the Aurors lost out when you decided not to join them," Alexei declared.

"I guess you'll just have to pick up the slack then," Lavender teased, looking sidelong at him. She was flirting again, and she was rusty at it but that was fine. She could relearn.

He shot a grin at her. "I guess I will. For now though, I have to go home. My class starts at five tomorrow morning. I'd like to see you again though."

Lavender returned his grin. "I'd like that too. I'm off Friday."

"Fantastic. The Dragon's Head at seven?" He named a pub she hadn't been to but had heard of as being very nice, and a place were people around her age frequented often.

"Seven sounds good to me," Lavender agreed. She walked him out the front door, ignoring Hannah's pointed look as they passed.

"See you Friday," he said, then leaned forward and down and kissed her on the cheek, right where one of her scars was. That simple acceptance of her ripped skin, more than anything, made her smile, and she turned her head just slightly so their lips met gently.

"See you Friday," she whispered against his mouth, smiling up into his blue eyes. She was looking forward to Friday.


	11. Chapter 11

When Friday night came, Brenda was surprised to see Lavender excited to leave early. Lavender mentioned that she had a date and Brenda practically fell over herself in both surprise and elation. Lavender blushed as the older witch flustered over her. "But what are you going to wear?" Breanda finally asked, stumping Lavender.

She always used to take days to plan her outfits for dates. Parvati would help her and they would tear both their wardrobes apart, searching for just the right thing to drive whichever boy had asked her out absolutely wild. Lavender hadn't even thought about dressing up for a date since the end of the war, mostly because she just chose whatever covered her up the most, and partly because Seamus didn't seem to care what she wore. "I... have no idea," Lavender confessed, spurring a tsking noise from Brenda.

"Then it's a good thing you have me," Brenda declared, locking the door, flipping over the 'Closed' sign, and dragging Lavender into the back. "We just got some new things in, come on."

Lavender giggled helplessly as Brenda dressed her, choosing a a boat-neck purple sweater over a red camisole and a pair of dark blue jeans that rode low on her hips to go over her black leather boots boots. She had forgotten what fun could be had getting ready for a date, and Brenda seemed determined to remind her. She did her own makeup while Brenda arranged her hair, pinning up the curls loosely and then letting them tumble down Lavender's back. The ensemble and the hairstyle bared more of her scars than she was used to and so Lavender swept powder over them, helping them blend slightly.

She was learning not to be ashamed, but it was one thing to stare down people who were curious in an intimate setting with her friends as opposed to going out in public and baring everything. Her clothes made her just a little bit nervous but Alexei had seemed to like her, scars and all, and so she tried to summon that feeling she got when she was in the Half Moon Tavern, the feeling of having enough confidence to stare down werewolves.

Soon enough Brenda pronounced her ready and ushered her out the door, wishing her well and nearly shoving her in the direction of the Dragon's Head. It was a short walk, over on Kelpie Street. She passed the old Keening Kelpie, which had closed its doors after the first war because the owners had all been killed. The blue and gold kelpie still pranced on the door as Lavender passed it and it seemed sad to her, but she passed on.

Alexei was waiting outside the Dragon's Head and he smiled as she walked closer, eyes roving appreciatively over her body. "Hello there," he greeted, holding out a hand and pulling her into a light hug.

She stiffened, unused to human contact, before relaxing slightly and giving him a quick hug back. "Hello yourself."

He led her inside and took her to a booth that the waitress had been holding for them, then helped her with her jacket. She appreciated the gesture – it had been a long time since anyone had treated her like a lady. Seamus had been treating her more and more like a teammate than a lady in the months before he had left, and it was nice to be reminded that she was, in fact, more than that.

"So I have to ask," he said, leaning forward over the table after they had ordered drinks. "Neville and some of the others have work have mentioned it, but not all that much. Were you all really planning fo die at the end of the year?"

Lavender raised her eyebrows. "Starting off with heavy conversation? No, it's fine," she said, waving aside his apologies. "I don't have a problem talking about it. The answer is yes. We decided at the start of the year that there were only a few ways that our final year of school could go down. We could bow our heads, take our beatings, and say nothing. We could rebel a little bit, maybe cause some damage. Or we could train and fight at the end of the year, make a huge battle out of it, so big the rest of the wizarding world would have to pay attention. We'd had a club before called Dumbledore's Army during my fifth year that was taught by Harry Potter. We learned defense because our professor wouldn't teach it to us. But in seventh year the DA was led by Neville, and we learned how to fight and how to plan a battle."

"That's incredible," Alexei commented. "Neville is an amazing leader, everyone thinks he might be Head of the Auror Department someday."

"He wasn't always like that," Lavender shook her head. "For years he was the class joke. Something changed in him after fifth year, and then he grew into his own during seventh year when he led us. We ended up being willing to follow him to hell and back, to die for him if he asked. I think we all still would." Neville had filled them all with a confidence that Harry had never been able to. Harry had been a decent teacher, but Neville believed in them in a way that made them want to believe in themselves. She smiled in memory. "He told us once that he always had our back, just as he knew we had his. I think it remains true to this day. He and Hannah have helped piece more of us back together after the hell of last year than I can remember."

She sipped at her wine, then looked up as the waitress came over to take their orders. Time to see how much she scared her date. "Steak, please. Rare as you can make it. Just take it over to the grill and scare it a little bit." The waitress gave her a strange look but nodded, then took Alexei's order.

Alexei was looking at Lavender like he wanted to ask another question. "I'm not a werewolf," she forestalled him. He looked visibly relieved and she couldn't help but be a little annoyed. "Would it matter if I was? No, never mind," she interrupted herself before he could talk. "I don't think I actually want to know the answer to that."

Things got more awkward before they got better, but the food helped quite a lot. Lavender did have impeccable table manners despite her wolfish tendencies, and even though her steak was practically bleeding onto her plate she still cut it into small bites with her knife and fork to eat it delicately. As usual, she ignored most of the potatoes and peas that had come with it. They made more small talk as they ate dinner, though Lavender was mostly focused on her meal.

"It's nice to see a girl actually eat," Alexei commented as Lavender polished off the rest of her steak and sopped up the remaining juices on her plate with a piece of bread. "I always feel bad when a girl just orders a salad."

"I like to eat," Lavender said shortly. Actually, being bitten had been incredible for her waistline. Her temperature ran hot all the time now and she burned calories like an athlete, especially as the moon was waxing. Tonight was the first quarter of the moon's cycle and in preparation for the full moon in a week her appetite was voracious.

Sighing, she looked up at Alexei ruefully. "I'm sorry I was short with you. It's just been a really long time since I've gone on a date, and it's the first time I've gone on a first date since the war."

"It's alright," he smiled. "Just relax. I can tell you've been hurt recently, and I can't imagine having those scars makes people look at you nicely."

"Well spotted," Lavender groused.

"I am an Auror," Alexei pointed out.

"In training," she sassed back, and like that the awkwardness was dispersed and they spent the rest of the evening chatting about everything and nothing. He ended up walking her back to her flat and kissing her goodnight, and the feeling of his lips lingered on hers for a long time after that.

She woke up the next morning with a smile on her face and lightness in her step. Brenda had once again banned her from going to work (she secretly thought her boss was hoping she would keep her date over that night) so instead she made a grocery list and tidied up the flat. She left the flat with less of her usual coat of makeup than usual, though she still kept her hair down and her collar pulled up.

Despite the looks of the cashier and some of the other patrons of the store, her smile stayed on as she shopped. It was nice to feel wanted and beautiful by someone new, and the ego boost she was getting off of it was wonderful. She handed over her money cheerfully and exited the store with her bag, almost feeling like skipping. Lavender giggled a little at that idea – skipping in these boots with these heels would lead to a broken ankle in moments.

She was so caught up in her happy memories of the night before she almost didn't notice the familiar scent that the wind carried to her. When she did notice it she stilled, looking across the street in the direction of the wind. The scent poured into her nose as she turned in the direction of it, and she laid eyes on Seamus, limping just barely, walking hunched against the wind with his face tucked down into his collar.

Lavender stared at him, her happiness from before forgotten. He looked tired, overworked, and sad all at the same time. He was walking quickly right into the wind and she caught the scent of whiskey and blood and the smell that was so uniquely him that she had to restrain herself from running to him. She leaned against the side of the building behind her to stop herself. If he was hurt, she wanted to make him better. She had always been the best at patching up his wounds.

After the Battle of Hogwarts when everyone was just trying to figure out who was alive and what had happened, she had pieced him back together with salve and bandages. No one else had tried because of the dark look on his face, and because she understood him well enough to ignore it. They might have won the war and the battle, but he still had his demons to fight from it. She had brought him back from the horrors he still saw in his mind the only way she knew how – gentle touches, silence, and a comforting presence. It was the only thing that had ever worked on him.

In return he had done the same for her, cleaning the blood off the bites and finding wounds she hadn't remembered getting. They had sat together in the Great Hall and become the focus of each other's attention, and she learned his body better in that moment than she had in the many times they had frantically pawed at each other in a broom closet and the number of times they had slept together in his bed, skin pressing against skin. She could still recall every line of his arms and back and shoulders, every cut she had cleaned and bandaged, and the look as his eyes slowly softened and the muscles of his body relaxed into her touch.

It had been a magical moment, sitting there as dawn poured through the shattered windows and broken ceiling and cries of happiness and sadness sounded around them. He had taken her away then, to a grassy meadow somewhere in Scotland and they had reveled in the light of day, the fact that they were alive, the fact that the wizarding world was safe and they had won. It was another one of those incredibly happy memories that she had tucked away for safekeeping, and it made her bitterly sad to see him the opposite of what he had been.

She watched as he walked away, and then turned and walked the opposite direction. Even the sight of him sent her mind into overdrive, and she turned over the image of him walking away into the cold wind, limping a little and looking miserable. What was happening to him at work? Was it really that awful and soul-consuming that he looked like that?

Lavender put away her groceries when she got home and fixed a cup of tea, wishing she could rekindle the earlier joy she had. But seeing Seamus, after weeks of not seeing him, was like a punch in the gut that she hadn't expected. All the excitement Alexei had given her was gone, and instead, she just hoped Seamus was alright.


	12. Chapter 12

The moon waxed slowly towards full and Lavender felt her energy increase accordingly. The moonstone around her neck started to glow brighter and brighter with the growing moon and Alexei commented on it more than once. He said she probably didn't need to wear it because she wasn't really a werewolf, and far from reassuring her, it just irritated her. She had seen him twice more since their first date and while he treated her like a princess, she couldn't help but feel that he wasn't really comfortable with her scars. Well, that wasn't strictly accurate. He seemed fine with her scars, it was what they might mean that scared him.

It didn't help to remember that the first full moon after the Battle of Hogwarts, Seamus had waited with her overnight as she waited and prayed and desperately hoped that she wouldn't transform. She hadn't, but she had been immensely grateful that he had been there for her the whole night, constantly touching her to reassure her that she wasn't a wolf, talking to her and telling her ridiculous stories to keep her mind off of her possible transformation. She had fallen asleep in his lap on their couch, confident in him watching over her, and had woken up with him frying up steaks. Hers had been practically raw and she had fallen in love with him just a little more for that.

Comparing Seamus's attentiveness with Alexei's badly disguised fear of what she might be made her angry. She supposed a few months ago it would have made her sad that she wasn't human enough for this handsome Auror in training, but now it just annoyed her. It wasn't her fault she wasn't entirely human, and she didn't feel she should be blamed for it.

She found herself in the Half Moon Tavern more and more frequently, talking with werewolves and a few other people like her, who had been attacked outside of the full moon. Those like her were few and far between, but as the local werewolf population saw her around, some of them started getting comfortable enougn to talk to her. The more she learned about how many of them had no schooling and no wands, the more upset she got about it. Just like her, it wasn't their fault they had been bitten. She was starting to suspect there would be fewer bites if werewolves were properly included in wizarding society as well. Most of them were angry and they had a right to be, even if some of them did take it out in bad ways.

It didn't make her able to forgive Fenrir or those who had allied themselves with him, of course, but it did make it easier to understand. After the bite, especially as children, young werewolves were ostracized from the community. How could they possibly learn to care about other wizards like she had learned at Hogwarts without being included at all? Many of them only knew other werewolves and she was one of the first witches who had been decent to them, and she wasn't even completely human anymore.

As she was getting ready for work the morning three days before the full moon, a knock sounded at her door. It had been so long since anyone had come to visit Lavender had paused in confusion before remembering what she was supposed to do when someone knocked. She answered the door to find Hannah there, dressed for work at the Leaky Cauldron. "Oh Lavender, thank Merlin," Hannah said, stepping inside the door as Lavender stepped back.

"Hannah, what's... is someone hurt?" Lavender's mind flashed suddenly to an image of Seamus hurt, or Seamus at St. Mungo's, or the Healers telling her there was nothing they could do to save him. It unnerved her how quickly her imagination jumped to the challenge and she tried to tamp down on that before it got out of control.

"No, no," Hannah said. Lavender nearly whimpered in relief before getting a hold of herself. "Neville just told me that Bill Weasley was attacked last full moon. Seamus told you about the rogue werewolf who has been trying to finish what Greyback started – well, he got Bill. They don't know if he's going to be a full werewolf yet or not, but he's been in the hospital for nearly three weeks now."

Lavender felt her knees start to give out and she sat down on the couch quickly, fear coursing through her. Seamus had mentioned the rogue werewolf and given that as his excuse for why he wasn't around all that often, but Lavender hadn't thought too much of it. Now, without him around and with the full moon coming up, she was scared.

"Lavender, I'm so sorry to tell you this before you go to work," Hannah apologized. "I know it must be awful to hear. But the Aurors are tracking the rogue down as quickly as they can, and they hope to have him caught soon. Still, he's getting bolder and Neville thought I should warn you." She looked like she was about to say something else but then she bit her lip, meeting Lavender's eyes with worry.

"I... I appreciate the warning," Lavender said, mustering a smile for her friend. "Tell Neville thanks. I won't go out on the full moon, I never do."

"I know," Hannah said, sitting down next to Lavender to wrap her in a hug. "If you need to come over to our house to wait it out with some company, you're always welcome. You know that, right? We're both getting off around five on Sunday, you can come over any time after that."

"Of course," Lavender said, returning the hug. She would never put anyone through the hell of being cooped up on the full moon, but it was sweet of them to offer. Hannah left soon after that and Lavender resumed getting ready for work, thoughts churning.

The next two days passed too quickly for Lavender, now that she had something beyond just the full moon to dread. The moonstone started glowing brightly during the night, as if picking up on Lavender's tense emotions. She went over the Hannah's house the night after her friend had come to warn her and Hannah made her dinner, trying her best to distract her friend. Neville came home shortly after they had broken into a bottle of wine and joined them, then insisted that Lavender floo home rather than walking.

That, more than anything, made the strange wildness inside Lavender roil. It didn't like fearing to walk home. It didn't like being coddled as if it couldn't take care of itself. Whenever Lavender started to think like that she fought down panic – it was like there was a wolf inside her. It felt like some of her werewolf friends from the Half Moon Tavern had told her they felt near the full moon, like there was a wolf looking out through their eyes, tinting the world with animal emotions and instincts.

It scared her to think like that. She hadn't been bitten by a werewolf at the full moon, and she knew that that was the only way to be a true werewolf, but the idea that there was a strange, animal intelligence in her brain conflicting with her human mind was scary enough. She got more snappy with customers until Brenda sent her home, scolding her gently for her attitude. Lavender couldn't bring herself to care as she stalked home, people getting out of her way almost subconsciously. Her werewolf friends had told her that they tried not to be around people for the few days leading up to the full moon, but this was the first time she had felt like she might need to remove herself from society for a few days.

Even Alexei didn't escape her full moon emotions, and he left her house angry after she made one too many comments about his attitude towards werewolves. He had just been trying to tell her he was worried for her during this full moon with the rogue on the loose, and she hadn't wanted to hear it. After he had left she had paced her apartment like a caged animal until she realized what she was doing and forced herself to sit down.

She started to doubt that any relationship would work if he was scared of part of her. Despite his reassurances that he was perfectly fine with her scars, she was realizing that while he might be alright with the scars, he might not be alright with what they meant. That made her sad but the animalistic part of her mind had no time or use for sad, so she put the emotion away. The wolf wanted to pace and run and Lavender was determined to stay seated on her couch to prove to herself that she wasn't an animal. She was in control, even if her love life was something she was incapable of handling or holding together. She could at least handle the bestial side of herself.

Anyway, she thought as she made tea, if Alexei wasn't comfortable with the fact that she snarled at people a few days a month, that was his loss. Going out and handling herself in the Half Moon Tavern had done wonders for her self-confidence, and she was starting slowly to see herself in the light she had before the Battle of Hogwarts. She hadn't had body issues like many girls, and she had always known she was beautiful. Slowly that feeling was coming back, and she knew it was reflecting in the way she walked, with her head held high and less powder and foundation by the week, and in the way she talked to other people because she now looked them in the eye. If that made them uncomfortable, if that made them feel challenged, well, that was on them. It wasn't her fault she had been turned into a half werewolf woman, but here she was, and here she would stay.

The wolf liked that train of thought. No more skulking around like a kicked dog. Time for people to learn how to deal with her, rather than her making accommodations for people who were scared of her scars. A dim part of her knew that after the full moon she would go back to being just as quiet as before, most likely. This was probably just the full moon emotions talking. But it was a line of thought she liked, and she indulged it for as long as she could.

The night before the full moon she made her usual grocery store trip and purchased three pounds of steaks and extra bandages for when she woke up. This full moon felt like it was going to be a bad one, and she nearly snarled at the cashier when the girl made a strange face at the purchases. Lavender barely got outside before a growl tore through her throat, frightening both a woman walking into the store and Lavender herself. What kind of creature was she, to be snarling at something she was so used to, to be directing her fury at her situation at some hapless teenager?

That almost got a laugh out of her as she leaned up against the wall of the store. She was nothing more than a hapless teenager herself, turning eighteen in a few months. She just felt older than her age, probably due to the war. Of course it was due to the war. Who did she think she was kidding?

Touching the moonstone calmed her, and she ended up turning the pendant around so that the stone itself was touching her skin. It gave her a point of reference for when she wanted to bite something, a cool spot against her skin that she could focus on. The moonstone itself was always cool despite how bright it had grown, and with Lavender's increased body temperature it was a welcome relief. She had left the window open for three nights in a row now, sleeping with just a light cotton sheet and letting the icy winter wind sweep into her room. She tossed and turned at night, sleeping fitfully until the dawn woke her.

When the sun touched her face she was instantly awake, up and pacing the length of her short hallway, hands fidgeting constantly. She dreaded the next day like she had never dreaded anything before, even the Battle of Hogwarts. At least she had been able to prepare for that. For this, she just had to wait until it happened.


	13. Chapter 13

The moment she woke on the morning of the full moon, Lavender felt like a caged thing. Maybe next month she would take Wolfsbane, just to see if it helped. The wolfish part of her was scared and it felt like she was being hunted, even in the bright light of day with the moon still below the horizon. She paced her the hallways of her flat, not eating, barely seeing what she was doing. Her clothes were constricting so she tore them off but that offered only scant relief.

She only made it until noon before she knew she had to get out, despite the danger. The moon wouldn't be up for another few hours anyway, so she should be fine. She forced herself back into clothes, a baggy old sweater and jeans that had gone unwashed in a week, and slipped outside. She barely remembered to do up the hexes on her door, but since her home felt like a cage, she didn't think they would matter all that much. She didn't care if someone came in. She had to get out.

Lavender stalked down the street, ignoring people who looked at her like she was someone unhinged. She didn't care about the looks right now. The outside helped but she still felt like she was humming with energy and so she picked up her pace until she was flat out running along the streets, leaving scattered people and pigeons in her wake.

She found herself at the Half Moon Tavern before she skidded to a halt, gasping to refill her lungs with the chilly winter air. She took just a moment to smooth her hair and pin it up and straighten her clothes after her mad dash. Already people were looking at her, but it was less of the fear stares she had been getting before and more looks of understanding. She cracked a smile without a hint of humor in it. She was home.

The barkeeper greeted her with her usual glass of red wine. "Can I get something to eat too?" She asked.

He nodded. "One rare steak, coming right up." He clearly knew his clientele and Lavender felt a little relaxed for the first time all day. She was still hyped up, could still feel her blood running hot and fast through her veins, but being out, around others like her, she felt better.

And there were others like her here. She counted at least three half werewolves by scent alone, and when she looked around the tavern she met their eyes. Yellow eyes, much like she knew hers must be. The three of them sat together in a booth and one made a little motion towards her, beckoning her over. Ignoring the dimly human part of her mind that was screaming this was a bad idea, she picked up her glass of wine and sauntered over, projecting her aura of confidence and power that she was working on perfecting.

"We might not be wolves, but the moon still calls," one of the yellow-eyed men said. There was one woman among them, an older lady with enough scars criss-crossing her face to put Lavender's own collection to shame. The man who had spoken was older as well, and there was a familiarity between him and the woman that made Lavender think they were more than just friends. The other man at the table was probably five or six years older than Lavender herself, with dirty blond hair and green eyes that had a feverish glow to them. Not yellow, as she was expecting, and that seemed strange.

"How do you handle it?" Lavender asked. She notices that the woman had a wand, but the two men did not. "Wolfsbane?"

The woman shrugged. "I tried Wolfsbane once, when it first came was produced. It doesn't work on us."

Lavender's steak came and she dug in ravenously. Her run had awoken her appetite and she was starving. The others watched her eat but she didn't feel threatened by it. It was like her body knew that these people weren't going to hurt her, that they were all suffering through the same thing. "I'm Lavender, by the way," she belatedly introduced herself after she had sated herself.

"Adeline," the woman introduced herself. "This is Danny and the pup is Max. Our son." Lavender restrained her surprised reaction at that, but once she knew what to look for, she saw that Max and Adeline had the same eyes, and Max and Danny had the same cheekbones. Taking another whiff of the air, she was shocked that she hadn't noticed before that Max was a full werewolf. What on earth was he doing out in public the day of the full moon?

"You're a werewolf?" Lavender asked, unable to help herself.

Max grinned at her. He didn't have a scar at all that she could see, and that was very strange. All the werewolves she had met, or even anyone who had encountered a werewolf, had scars. That's just how it was. "Runs in the family."

"But..." she trailed off, confused.

Max shrugged. "Mom and Dad were both attacked years before I was born but they didn't turn. I was born a werewolf."

Something about him unnerved her, but maybe that was just her wolf reacting to his. He seemed calmer than he should be, much calmer than she was, and so she tried to ignore the faint growl in her mind. Lavender didn't want to seem like she was interrogating this strange family, but at the same time, she hadn't really met anyone else who had been attacked but not turned. "Aren't you worried to be out on the full moon? The Ministry says there's a rogue werewolf who's been hunting people like us."

Adeline scoffed. "The Ministry doesn't give half a damn about us. And what would be so wrong with being turned, really? Then at least people could fear me for a real reason and not just because of my scars."

Lavender knew that feeling uncomfortably well. She hadn't wanted to be a full werewolf, of course, but she didn't know if she'd feel that way in a year or two. It was bad enough that people looked at her like she was a broken, wild, wolf thing – might as well give them a reason to be scared. Still, it was chilling to hear those words from the mouth of a woman who had a werewolf for a son and must know the realities of his life.

"The Ministry should care," she commented quietly. "They should care about us."

"But they don't," Max interjected, bitterness in his voice. "It doesn't matter what they should do because they don't."

"Max..." Adeline sighed. It sounded like an old argument. Adeline had accepted their fate and Max was still angry about it.

Lavender hadn't realized how much time had been passing as they talked and the next time she looked out the small, grimy window of the Half Moon Tavern, she could see the sun setting. "Damn," she swore lightly. "I have to be getting home. Thank you all very much for the company."

Adeline nodded slowly. "We'll talk again, I'm sure."

Lavender gave them a quick smile before stepping outside. Dark was falling fast and she felt her stomach jump a little in fear. She had sworn to be home by dark. Actually, she had promised Hannah that she wouldn't leave her house at all on the full moon, but she knew that if she hadn't left she would have chewed her own arm off from frustration.

She walked fast and by the time she had made the turn back to Diagon Alley the lamps were being lit, throwing wild shadows over the street. The shadows made her flinch like a wild thing, and the feeling of being chased by a number of enemies did nothing to help her frazzled nerves.

When the moon came up it was as if Lavender had been electrified. Her senses were on high alert, her nose scenting the wind like it held the secrets to life. Her eyes changed as well, seeing fewer colors but more shadow and grey, and more of the wild shadows thrown out by the lamplight. Her hair was all on end and she twitched at the slightest movement out of the corner of her eye. It was because of those shadows and the scents on the air that she was able to dodge of of the way of a snarling wolf.

She let out a shriek as the wolf, grey and black and with gleaming yellow eyes, skidded to a halt on the cobblestones. It had raked her arm with its nails but it hadn't bitten her, she didn't think. No time to check. No one was around on this windy full moon night, but Lavender only hoped someone would hear her yelling and come help. She drew her wand with a flash, shooting sparks at the wolf to keep it back. Its eyes were fixed on her, terribly human in rage, and it made another charge at her, jaws wide.

Fear bloomed in her as it jumped. All the memories of being attacked last year came back to her in an instant, despite the fact that Greyback had been totally human. Having a wolf attacking her didn't make it any easier to handle, but she had been trained for this. She ducked aside and kept her feet moving, not letting the wolf pin her in a corner or against a wall. It was just one. She could handle this.

This wasn't the time for personal realizations, but she instantly realized that yes, she had actually trained for this. Not specifically being attacked by a werewolf, but being attacked, facing an opponent that wanted to kill her or at least hurt her severely. Last time Greyback had leapt on her from behind as she had tried to shove a fourth year girl to safety – this time, she was armed, facing the wolf, and angry. Angry that he would try to turn her when her life was already hell. Angry that he thought he could scare her with his snarls. Angry at Seamus, because he thought that she couldn't handle this. Angry at a government that had turned someone into a savage thing because of lack of support, or options.

She took a step back and leveled her wand at the wolf. "I don't want to hurt you," she yelled at it. She didn't, not really. She just didn't want to get more hurt.

It roared as it jumped at her again, jaws open. Lavender tried her duck out of the way again as she shot more sparks at it, singeing its fur. Quicker than she had expected it the wolf whirled and clawed at her again, ripping open her robes and skin. It jumped on her and pinned her and she willed herself not to panic as it snapped at her face, grazing her skin with its teeth as she tried to keep her arm across its throat to keep it back. She blasted it with a cry of "Stupefy!" and felt, rather than saw, the spell hit it right in the chest.

It went limp on top of her and she kicked its unconscious body off of her, shaking from fear, dripping her blood and the blood of the wolf onto the stones of the street. She scrambled away from it, terror still flowing through her like a river as she frantically moved away from the limp body. Once she was about five feet away from it she pointed her wand at it and shot thin ropes at it, binding its paws together and muzzling its mouth. Her wand trembled in her hand but she held it steady as best as she could.

Looking around for the first time, she saw that a group of people had massed around her. Maybe they had been going to help, she though. "Call the Ministry," she rasped, voice hoarse from shouting. When she looked at a man he flinched back and she realized she must look a mess. She could feel her wounds still bleeding and her clothing torn around her, but she could also feel the white moonlight seeping into them and soothing the hurt. "Someone call the Aurors!" She yelled, voice cracking. Lavender felt like she was cracking too, about to fall apart at the seams.

The wolf lay motionless until the cracks of Aurors apparating in made it stir. It twitched once before she shot another flare of red light at it, hitting it directly in the head. Her wand was still outstretched and her heart was still racing when someone came over to remove her wand from her hand, whispering meaningless comforts to her and telling her to calm down as he did so. She let go of her wand reluctantly, only fully releasing it when she realized it was one of the Aurors doing so.

"What happened?" She heard another Auror asking one of the bystanders as two more of them approached the body of the still wolf.

"I don't know exactly, sir," the man answered. "We came out when we saw the flashing lights and heard the woman yelling, then the werewolf jumped on her and bit her, I think – "

That made Lavender stir from her fear-induced tunnel vision. The wolf hadn't bitten her. It had scratched her to bits with both claws and teeth but she didn't have any puncture wounds. She had done enough research to know that it had to be a proper bite to turn her into a werewolf, from a fully transformed wolf under the light of the full moon. The wolf had raked his teeth over her face and his claws over her arms, but it hadn't actually sunk its teeth into her. "I haven't been bitten," she muttered, voice breaking and quiet.

They all ignored her, even the one that was holding her upper arm. She looked at his hand. When did that happen? "Hey," she called out louder, forcing her voice to work. "I haven't been bitten!"

"Alright," the Auror holding her said even as his hand tightened slightly on her arm. "You haven't been bitten, alright."

She settled slightly and let him drag her to her feet. At least he believed her. She stumbled away with the Aurors as one of them levitated the werewolf's body, flinching every time it moved. That had been too close of a call for her to be comfortable with. Dazed and relieved, she didn't fight as she was side-along apparated back to the Ministry and marched through the doors.

They deposited her in a small room with a thin mattress and a pile of blankets and said they would be back later. Once they were gone she collapsed onto the bed and tried to let her shakes subside, bleeding still lightly from her wounds. What a night.


	14. Chapter 14

It had been three days since she had been left in the room. Her wounds had healed rapidly courtesy of the moonlight she had been exposed to but the healing had slowed once she was back indoors. Still, she was healed enough to pace the room anxiously and she did so, feeling like the wild thing they clearly thought she was.

Food had been shoved through a small flap in the door a few times but something in Lavender just knew that it had been three days. She could feel the moon rising and setting each night and that scared her at the same time as it enraged her. How dare they just leave her here? What were they even doing? Had they dealt with the werewolf who had attacked her? Was he human again? Who was he? All her questions and fears went unanswered as the days dragged on.

They hadn't even provided her with a change of clothes. Her jeans were ripped and dirty and bloody now, as was her old sweater. She didn't much care about the clothes, but the idea that she had to wear them for three days straight after bleeding and fight in them made her want to yell at someone until they cried. How could they think that this was proper treatment of anyone? To say nothing of the fact that she had been attacked by a werewolf and received no medical care for it! She knew the Ministry was on high alert with the rogue werewolf running around but if she'd stunned him three days ago and they had him in custody, shouldn't she be lauded as a hero? Not that she particularly wanted to be cheered on by the masses – she really just wanted a change of clothes and a bath.

And out. The room felt more and more like a cage as the days passed and she retrained herself from clawing at the walls just barely. She was a person, not a wolf, and she would show restraint despite how badly she was being treated.

The first person that came through the door on the afternoon of the third day she nearly pounced on, leaping to the doorway in a bout of athleticism more lupine than human. The poor girl was carrying a plate of food that she dropped with a yelp at Lavender's aggression.

Lavender backed off slightly, taking a few steps away from the door. "I'm sorry," she apologized softly, trying to calm her humming nerves. The plate of food was shattered on the ground and she knelt to help clean it up. "You're the first person I've seen in three days."

The girl flinched back and scrabbled for the door before fleeing, leaving Lavender in a state of hurt confusion. She stayed kneeling on the floor and stared at the door where the girl had disappeared, not even hungry after that. What was going on?

It was nighttime before she heard footsteps outside her door again, and she locked her eyes on it until it opened. A familiar scent came to her nose and she recognized Neville before she saw him. His presence let her relax slightly and she walked towards him slowly. He looked her over and passed a hand over his face in either shock or disbelief, she wasn't sure which.

"Neville, what is going on?" She asked immediately.

He put a hand up to forestall any questions. "I can't tell you much," he apologized. She barely restrained a growl. "I had no idea they were keeping you like this. They're only supposed to use these cells when... well, it doesn't matter. Lavender, I have to ask – were you bitten? Do you have any reason to believe you're going to transform next month?"

"I... no," Lavender said. There wasn't a mirror to check but she had run her hands all over her face and arms and chest when she had been cleaning the blood off and she hadn't found any teeth marks. Her face was a mess but there weren't any puncture wounds. "No, I wasn't bitten. He just clawed me to pieces." She thought, anyway. She hoped.

Neville let out a long breath. "Alright. The problem is that with the current werewolf hysteria going on, no one believes that."

Lavender stilled, then turned to look at him slowly. "What?"

"They think you were bitten, Lavender." It was a fair assumption but it made Lavender angry. If they thought she had been bitten why hadn't they given her any medical attention? Why would they leave her locked in a prison for three days without treatment? The werewolf curse was only passed by bite – did they think she would bite someone? She wasn't a werewolf, not even a transformed wolf! Who were they to think that? "Some of us have been arguing your case," Neville continued, "based on what we know about it, and based on the fact that you stunned and captured the werewolf who attacked you, but the Department of Magical Creatures is adamant that you belong under twenty four hour watch now through the next full moon. You know I've always got your back Lavender, just like we promised, but there's not much I can do."

She felt the anger rising again. "There is no way I am staying in this cage for a month. I haven't even received medical treatment or advice on what to do. They have barely fed me, no one has brought me any information, and I don't even have a change of clothes." Lavender paused for just a moment before leveling her eyes at Neville. "This is illegal."

He shook his head grimly. "It's not, actually, not with the legislation they've passed recently. Until you get through the next full moon without transforming, you will be here. According to the authorities, anyway."

"I will not," she stated, voice crackling with anger. Before Neville could react she darted for the door and slipped outside of it, turning to stride down the hall with long, angry steps. She could hear Neville racing after her but there was something in her that gave off the air of hunter and he fell into her wake without apprehending her.

"Where is the Head of the Department of Magical Creatures?" She asked a staring secretary once she reached the end of whatever hallway she had been kept in. She had no idea where she was – doors lined a hallway and there was a slightly damp scent like they were underground.

"Miss Brown – " someone bustled up to her, looking like some kind of paper shuffler. She leveled her eyes at him and he gulped. "Miss Brown, we were just coming to get you. The Werewolf Liaison needs to speak with you about your experiences."

"Yes, I do think that needs to happen," Lavender agreed, tone icy. The man looked away from her and then hastened her along a corridor and up into an elevator. The confined box made Lavender's skin crawl but she forced herself to remain calm. It would not do to have a meltdown over an elevator. Neville was with them the whole time, a quiet presence that seemed more behind her back than behind the man sent from the Werewolf Liaison.

The Werewolf Liaison, when they reached her, was a severe-looking woman in dark grey robes. Lavender fixed her with a stare and, to her credit, the woman didn't flinch back. "Ah, Miss Brown," the woman greeted. "I am Emilia Rumple, Werewolf Liaison for the Department of Magical Creatures."

"Why have I been treated like this?" Lavender demanded, walking straight up to Emilia while still staring. Maybe it would make the woman nervous eventually.

"You have been held in accordance with the standard protocol of all newly-bitten werewolves – "

"I have not," Lavender cut her off. "I have been locked away for three days now, no medical care or change of clothes were given, with no news of when I was to be released, and I was not allowed to contact anyone. Merlin only knows what my parents think if my attack was in the paper, or my boyfriend." Funny, she hadn't actually thought of Alexei at all in the last three days. Perhaps it was cold, but she could use him as her boyfriend for now, even if he was likely just going to break up with her once he realized that she might be a werewolf. She probably wasn't a werewolf, like she had told Neville, but she wouldn't know for sure, not really, until the next full moon. Not that she was going to tell these people that – like as not they'd just chuck her back in her cell.

"All people relevant to your case have been notified of your being held here at the Ministry."

Lavender glared, restraining herself from snarling as well. Human. She was human. "And no one protested? No one demanded to visit? I can hardly believe that." Neville hadn't known, he had told her so himself. And her parents, while being scared of her, would still have done their best to find out what happened. Just because they were scared of what she was, they wouldn't abandon her. She knew that.

"Miss Brown, this is not what we have called you here to speak about," Emilia said, clearly trying to refocus the conversation. "Perhaps we can take this into my office – "

"I have had enough of your cages," Lavender said, barely keeping the growl from her voice. They were starting to make a scene out here. Workers from the Department of Magical Creatures were looking around at them, peeking out of offices at the glaring woman with the clawed and bitten face and bloody robes facing off with the woman who was supposed to manage people like her.

"It was for your own safety, Miss Brown," Emilia explained. "When someone has gone through the experience you have, sometimes they feel like they have to lash out at those trying to help them. We devised the holding program for werewolves who have just been bitten, like yourself."

"I wasn't bitten!" Lavender almost yelled. She bit the inside of her cheek to help contain herself, metallic taste of blood flooding her mouth. "I have told Trainee Auror Longbottom that I wasn't bitten and that is the case, which, if you had bothered to send _any_ medical care, you would know."

"That's for us to decide, Miss Brown, despite what you may think."

Lavender felt like she had been punched in the chest. They really were planning on keeping her locked up until the next full moon, and without medical treatment. She took a long breath, then said quietly, "I demand to speak to the Head of Magical Creatures. This is illegal and inhumane."

"You're not _humane_," a new voice said. Lavender whipped her head around to stare at a portly, balding man who was looking at her with a nasty expression. The badge on his robes proclaimed him to be the Head of Magical Creatures, doubtless drawn here by the noise they were making. "You are a werewolf, _Miss Brown_, and as such fall under Emilia's jurisdiction. If she says you are to remain in the holding cells until the next full moon, that is her right. Trainee Auror Longbottom, see Miss Brown back to her cell." He waved a hand at Lavender and then looked down, clearly dismissing her.

The rage filled her like a wave of fire racing through her and she slowly looked around at Neville. "You said you would always have my back, Neville. Did you mean it?" She let her vulnerability show to him alone, the slight tint of fear in her eyes. They had been through hell together the past year and if he agreed to help put her back in the box it would be the worst form of betrayal.

Anger and injustice made her throw caution to the winds. The Lavender from a week ago would never have challenged authority on her own like this. But then she'd been attacked and shoved into a cage for three days, untreated wounds bleeding over her robes, and now she was being treated like some beast. The Lavender from a week ago was gone, and this Lavender was angry. The way they were treating her was wrong. The way they treated others like her was wrong. She was going to do something about it.

Neville seemed to be warring with himself for just a second before giving her a tiny grin and shaking his head slightly. "I can't help, Mr. Bennett. Miss Brown goes where she will." The Head of Magical Creatures shot an irritated look at Neville and appeared to be about to speak before he made the mistake of meeting Lavender's eyes.

The look she fixed him with was at once triumphant and disdainful and cold. She knew her eyes would still be yellowish from the full moon, and he couldn't meet her look for long. "I am a person, and you would do well to remember that."

"You've been bitten by a werewolf," he interjected, looking down at a pad of parchment in his hands. Hate filled his voice but he couldn't meet her eyes. "You don't understand what you are, and you certainly can't control yourself."

Lavender felt the air leave her lungs as he dismissed her, then took a quiet breath before starting to yell. She hadn't properly yelled in a long while, and it felt good, like she was letting all her rage out, all the emotions she had bottled up. "I am a _person_! Don't you _dare_ tell me I'm just some beast! I fought in the Battle of Hogwarts while the Ministry cowered in the corner with their fingers shoved in their ears to drown out the screams of children! How _dare_ you try and pen me up like some uncontrollable thing! You have no idea what I am, so don't even think about trying it, _Head of Magical Creatures_!"

She turned and stormed out, letting her senses guide her towards an exit by following faint traces of fresh air. Her blond curls bounced behind her and her bloody and tattered robes swept the ground, leaving a trail of shocked Ministry employees behind her. She would not be caged, not any more.


	15. Chapter 15

Lavender kept up her confident air all the way back to her house. She stalked the streets of London, people flinching from her even if they didn't see anything more to her than her hotly furious yellow-brown eyes and her ripped face. Her outer robe swirled behind her like a queen's train and by the time she reached her small flat they had accumulated a coating of mud on the hem from the muck in the streets. She undid the hexes on her door before letting herself in and shutting it quietly. She heard the hexes flaring back to life with a quiet hum of reassurance.

She made it all of three seconds before she ran to her room and threw herself on her bed, shoulders shaking with sobs. She had been so scared the last three days, so angry and confused, and it all came out of her in a rush as she soaked her pillow with her tears. She was shaking with the release of emotions and gripped her pillow with white-knuckled fingers, trying to calm her frantic heartbeat and racing mind.

Slowly, slowly enough for the light outside to fade and night to fall, she regained enough control of herself to sit up. Her shirt and jeans were ripped and bloody and she stripped them off, throwing them into a small metal wastebasket and lighting them on fire with her wand. Perhaps it was petty, and of course it wouldn't make the memories go away, but she couldn't stand the sight of those things anymore. And it wasn't like they had been salvageable anyway.

Naked, she walked into her bathroom and turned the shower on scalding hot. She felt like there were still hands holding her, like there was still a wolf pressing her to the ground, and when she stepped into the stream of boiling water she hissed from the clean feeling of it. Maybe it couldn't wash the memories away but she could certainly try, and she grabbed her loofah and started scrubbing. She had to be gentle with the new cuts on her body but she washed them anyway, old blood and dirt swirling down the drain.

Lavender stood in the shower for nearly half an hour before the water started to run cold. She stepped out and got her biggest, cleanest, fluffiest towel to wrap up in, reveling in the steam of the bathroom and the hot pink flush of her skin. She got out her healing salve and started slathering the purple gunk over her new wounds and the old ones that had torn. There were only two that had reopened, two of the slices on her leg and hip. Probably it had happened when she had been thrown down and pinned to the ground... she took a bracing breath before thinking about that any more. She already knew she would have nightmares tonight. She didn't need to trigger anything early.

After she had put salve on everything and donned a light cotton nightgown that was short and floaty enough to not get too caught in the healing salve, she went to fix herself tea and to sit quietly on her couch. She got a book and read by candlelight until a knock at the door made her stifle a shriek and spill tea all over herself as she scrambled for her wand.

Wand in hand an dripping lukewarm tea, she made her way carefully towards the door, casting a one-way visibility charm on it and sighing as she recognized Alexei. He was fiddling with his hands like he was nervous and she suddenly realized why he was here. Well, better get it over with. She undid the deadbolt and the hexes and greeted him with a wan smile.

"Hi," he greeted, running his eyes over her face. She knew she must look a sight, with purple salve all over and visible gashed underneath that. "Can I come in?"

"Of course," she invited, stepping back. She poured him a cup of tea and he sipped at it before continuing, clearly with something on his mind.

"I'm breaking up with you," he finally spat out.

She sighed lightly. "I thought so. But I don't think we were anything official anyway, so it doesn't matter."

"I feel like I owe you an explaination. You're really fun to be around, and I've had fun when we've gone out. It's not your scars," he continued. "You know I'm alright with those. And I was really worried when you were attacked. But..." He looked away from her, clearly awkward. "It's, well, I want children someday."

"And? So do I, eventually," Lavender agreed.

"That's good," Alexei agreed. "But I don't want my children to be... It's hard enough being a teenager without being, well, you know..."

A sudden chill swept over Lavender and she narrowed her eyes. "Finish that sentence," she commanded coldly. "Without being what, exactly?"

"You know," Alexei said. He clearly regretted going down this road. "What you are."

"What am I?" He flinched back from the venom in her voice. "Say it!"

"A werewolf," he said, flicking his eyes up to meet hers and then looking away again.

"I'm not a werewolf," she denied. "I'm a person, and I'm going to keep saying that until someone believes me."

"You were bitten, Lavender, I can see it all over your face."

"I am not ashamed!" She cried, then abruptly realized it was true. "I'm not ashamed of my scars, not any more. I fought and killed and hurt and I'm not going to be ashamed of that, not any longer."

"And you shouldn't be ashamed of your scars, but... I couldn't ever bring a werewolf home to my family. You're probably a werewolf and I can't – I can't," he finished lamely.

Lavender felt nothing but disgust as she looked on him. "Get out of my house."

"Lavender – " he started.

Lavender snarled, rage and sadness in the sound. "Get out!" She yelled, glaring daggers at him. He didn't look at her as he left, closing the door gently behind him. She would have preferred it if he fought back. Seamus had always fought back, right up until the end when he too had just walked out the door. Alexei leaving didn't make her half as sad as Seamus had.

Still, she was angry. Just because she was clawed up didn't mean she was lesser. And it didn't mean she was a werewolf! She might be, maybe, but Lavender was almost completely sure she wasn't a werewolf. A part at the back of her mind suggested that she get her hands on some Wolfsbane Potion just in case, but she had time enough for that later. It only had to be taken the week before the full moon. And she probably wasn't a werewolf anyway.

Growling low in her throat wasn't helping matters. She was too wound up for any more tea and so she fished around in a dusty cabinet and pulled out a mostly full bottle of firewhiskey. Seamus had left it when he left her and she had ignored it because of the memories – she associated the taste of whiskey with kissing him – but now might be a good time for something stronger than wine. She had defended herself against a werewolf on the full moon and hadn't been properly bitten, she could have a drink.

Three shots later, she was having a much better night. She was still twitchy and flinched at every little sound, but she had also turned on the radio and howled along with a few of her favorite songs and that was helping. It reminded her of being innocent and stupid before her seventh year, dancing around with Parvati and annoying Hermione with their caterwauling. Things had been so simple then and she missed those days with a bone-aching intensity.

Hell, she even missed the frantic fear of seventh year. At least then she had been working towards a goal with all of her classmates (at least all the ones she cared about), even if it had been a planned and carefully organized mass suicide. They had had utmost faith in each other, and she remembered the almost stupidly blind faith she had placed in Neville as their leader. She poured another shot of firewhiskey in Neville's honor, dripping a little on her nightgown on accident.

It had been luck that he had been the one sent to her that day. They might have just as easily sent Seamus or Terry Boot if all they were looking for was a trainee Auror who could maybe wrangle information out of her. Both of them would have taken her side, but Seamus would have been beyond awkward to deal with and she had never quite been sure where she stood with the somber, handsome Ravenclaw. Neville's quiet presence and back up had given her the strength needed to confront the Head of Magical Creatures.

Lavender's growl returned as she thought about the Head of Magical Creatures and that bitch of a Werewolf Liaison. She took another shot of firewhiskey. Those people didn't want to help her. They wanted to control her and cow her with their laws and their regulations like they did with others like her. She imagined that most people who went through what she went through were still shaky messes three days after they had been bitten. And that was completely understandable – the first time she had been attacked she had taken nearly a whole month before setting foot outside, and then another two months before she had dared to venture into public. Seamus had been with her through the whole of that terrible recovery and she had been immensely grateful to him for it.

But this time when she had been attacked, she already had scars. What were more scars on top of those? The emotions she was dealing with were ones she had dealt with before and she felt no different than before. This time she was even healing faster. Those horrible people at the Department of Magical Creatures had been expecting someone who was trembling and scared, not someone who was furious at their treatment of her. If they came for her again with their registration papers and their demands, they would find her even more prepared to deal with them. What they had done was illegal, or it should be, and she reiterated to herself her desire to make it punishable. No one deserved to be locked in a room for three days with no medical care and no contact with the rest of the world. It was inhumane and _wrong_.

A knock at her door made her whip her head around, then she had to pause to refocus her eyes as the world spun. She pointed her wand at the door and did the revealing spell again, then let out an audible gasp as she recognized Seamus's form outside. He had his hands stuck in his pockets and a decidedly uncomfortable look on his face. What on earth was he doing here?

She opened her door slowly, blinking stupidly at him. He looked awkward but still met her gaze with concern. He did look at her new wounds, the purple salve still coating her face, but even though she could see her appearance surprised and saddened him, he didn't seem scared or wary of her new look. She loved him for that.

"We've al heard what happened at the Department of Magical Creatures," he started slowly, unease evident in his tone. Oh, it was good to hear his voice again, the light Irish brogue meeting her ears like a warm summer breeze against the cold winter night.

Lavender snorted, a very unladylike noise. "I'm not a creature and I told them so."

That startled a short laugh out of him. "Course you're not. Are you alright?" He squinted at her when she shrugged and wobbled a little against her doorframe. "Are you drunk?"

"Maybe." She leaned up against the doorframe, wondering why he was spinning a little. She shrugged. "It's been a really awful past few days."

He laughed again, a proper one this time. That got Lavender to crack a smile before gesturing him inside, out of the cold. In this state, with everything a little blurry around the edges, it was almost like nothing had happened between them. She wanted to pretend nothing had happened. "Come in."

Seamus shook his head, a look of genuine regret on his face. "I can't. I just wanted to be sure you were doing alright."

"Oh yes," she agreed, nodding her head. The nodding made the world spin a little too far and she stumbled forward, hitting his arm with her shoulder, their chests pressed up against each other. "Whoops, sorry," she apologized, trying to back up. Walking backwards was harder than she had expected though and she ended up halfway falling over her couch, wondering when it had wandered up behind her. Convenient thing.

"Alright, time for bed for you," Seamus said. He seemed at once reluctant and eager to enter her house. That was strange. He wrapped Lavender's arm around his waist and half guided, half carried her to her bedroom, kicking the main door shut behind him. He sat her down on the edge of the bed and went to fetch a glass of water and a hangover potion from her medicine cabinet in the bathroom. By the time he got back she had stripped down to her bra and panties, skin flushed from the firewhiskey. It was nothing he hadn't seen before, and anyway, her nightie had revealed pretty much everything already.

Seeing her nearly naked as he walked back into the room Seamus stumbled, nearly walking into her door. He shook his head experimentally, like a dog trying to get water out of its ears, before clearing his throat and setting down the hangover potion and the glass of water on her bedside table. "I'll see myself out," he said, voice cracking a little.

A thoroughly leonine smile came across Lavender's face. Despite everything, he was still clearly attracted to her and it did wonders for her self esteem. He looked at her and seemed to recognize her smile for what it was and bit his lip, looking like he was hiding a matching smile. Despite over a month apart, she still knew his looks and his moods so well that every motion was recognized and it made her heart hurt and her smile turn wistful. "I miss you," she blurted out. Especially after what Alexei had said.

Seamus sighed and ran a hand through his hair, looking away. It broke the sexually charged moment even more than her admission had and Lavender felt a little loss, like a tiny version of losing him all over again. "Sleep well, Seamus," she said in farewell, letting all her longing and love come through in her tone of voice. "Thank you for checking on me."

He met her eyes again, that same exact loss and loneliness painfully evident. He had always worn his heart on his sleeve, especially around her. "Anytime, Lavender."

Then he was gone.


	16. Chapter 16

When Lavender woke up she could still smell Seamus's scent in her house. She listened for a moment but she knew he was gone, even though the smell of him lingered. It filled her with a quiet warmth even though all her emotions around their break up still swirled around her. He still cared enough to come and check on her after she had been kept a prisoner and then made a scene at the Ministry. It was a good feeling.

She downed the hangover potion and water and waited for it to kick in, staring at her ceiling and the gentle light filtering in through her window. He had put her to bed with such care last night, even if she had been a bit more forward than she should have been. She grinned at that thought. She still wanted him and it hurt less seeing that he still wanted her too. He did care about her, she could see that, but she had also seen the desire and lust in his eyes. Wounds and all, he still found her attractive, and that did more for her ego than anything had in the last month or so.

She got up slowly, the aches and hurts still present from her attack. She slathered more purple salve on her wounds and went to fix breakfast. She wrinkled her nose at the scents coming from her kitchen – apparently being gone for three days had made her steaks go bad. Even her wolf nose couldn't get past it and she nearly ran outside with the rotten food, dumping it in the trash.

A crash made her whip around. One of her neighbors was out and staring at her wounds. Lavender knew exactly what she looked like – a young woman in a slip of a nightgown with wild hair and bloody wounds covered in thick purple salve – but for a change she didn't have any desire to try to submit herself to the judgement of others. Or rather, she had accepted it before but she didn't feel like doing that today. Not after the attack, and her treatment at the Ministry, and Alexei thinking she was too much of a wild beast to take home to his family.

She set down her trash slowly, raising her eyebrows at her neighbor. The woman looked horrified and scandalized all at once and Lavender stared her down until she fled back inside. Lavender felt a self-satisfied smile creep across her face. No more hiding to make normal people feel comfortable. She wasn't ashamed, just like she had told Alexei. She wasn't ashamed any more.

Lavender went back inside after that, raiding her small pantry for any snacks she could make into a meal. There was some of Seamus's ancient beef jerky and crackers, both of which she stuffed in her mouth. She was still hungry.

She looked around before deciding to go out. The Leaky Cauldron served a good breakfast and maybe Hannah would be there. Lavender dressed for the cold, jeans and a sweater and a robe over that, but didn't put any makeup on. She wiped off most of the purple salve and left her wounds, both old scars and new tears, as they were. The air would be good for them.

The Leaky Cauldron was not busy when she arrived. She had been stared at more than once but she had assumed her confident air that she used when dealing with the people of the Half Moon Tavern and disregarded all of them. She didn't owe anyone anything, not explanations and certainly not her embarrassment.

Hannah was working and did a double take when she saw Lavender. "Lavender! Hello! Neville told me what happened yesterday, I am so happy you're doing okay!" She immediately put in an order for steak and eggs, light on the eggs, for her friend and Lavender smiled at the gesture. She also fetched Lavender a massive mug of tea and then pulled up a seat next to her. "You are doing okay, right?"

Lavender laughed, the motion pulling at her wounds slightly. "I am. I haven't heard anything from the Ministry and I sent Alexei packing after he thought I was too much of a werewolf to date, even though I'm not a werewolf at all." She thought she might as well stall the questions before they were asked. She could already see Hannah looking at her new wounds, though there was no malice or horror in her eyes, just sadness for her hurts.

"Sorry about him," Hannah grimaced. "He had been wondering, in his words, how much 'werewolf blood' you really had. Neville told him off for it once but... it's hard to get rid of hate and fear like that."

Lavender nodded in agreement. "I know. And I'd hate him for it but he just doesn't know any better. No one does." Her steak and eggs appeared and she dug in with a voracious hunger. She hadn't eaten properly in a few days, and her whiskey dinner of the previous night hadn't really been dinner.

Hannah leaned across the bar, fixing Lavender with a look. "What do you mean, no one does?"

Lavender shook her head with an apologetic smile. "Not you and Neville, of course, or the others of the DA. You look at me and know I'm still normal. But other people don't know that – they look at me and see my scars and think werewolf. And when they think werewolf they get scared, even if most werewolves are just like them. I've met so many werewolves who either have no education or no wand and are treated as less than human when it comes to finding jobs or a home. Anyone whose life is unstable is going to be a loose cannon."

She waved her fork for emphasis. "But what's worse than that is that not only do werewolves not have opportunities like regular wizards and witches, they're also feared because of what they are. There's so much misinformation going around, especially with the current hysteria over the rogue werewolves attacking people like me, that even if people want to learn about werewolves, they can't. Even the _Daily Prophet_ claims that Wolfsbane Potion needs to be taken every day for the life of the werewolf for it to work properly, and really you just need to take one dose per day for the week leading up to the full moon."

"You've been thinking about this a lot, haven't you?" Hannah asked, a strange look on her face.

"I have. Even if werewolves want Wolfsbane, they can't always get it because the Ministry doesn't have a dedicated department for dealing with werewolves, they just fall under the Department of Magical Creatures. And werewolves are human three hundred and fifty three days of the year – calling them creatures doesn't exactly make them feel like they've got a stake in the human side of the wizarding world."

"So what are you going to do about it?"

Lavender slumped. "I have no idea. But how they treat werewolves and people who had been attacked but aren't full werewolves, like me, it's just wrong. I was locked in a cell for three days without medical treatment or a change of clothes, and barely enough food for a child, let alone a grown person." She took another bite of her steak and chewed it while shaking her head. "It's just _wrong_."

"I agreed," Hannah said mildly. "And I don't think I've ever seen you this worked up and ready to fight for something. You remind me a little of Neville when he was running the DA."

Lavender blinked, surprised. That was a huge compliment, considering Neville had rallied them all, worked up a training schedule, and planned and prepared for a massive fight at the end of the year... a fight they had won. "Thank you," she said. "I have no idea how to change anything, but it should be changed."

"Just talk to people," Hannah suggested, getting off her stool and standing. "Talk to others and see if they'll help you. You know the DA will always back you up, but you'll need support from other angles too."

Lavender smiled up at her friend. "Thank you, Hannah. For the food and advice, as always."

Hannah gave Lavender a light hug, careful not to bump any of her wounds. "Any time, you know that."

Since she was already near Diagon Alley, she decided to go visit the robes shop after her breakfast. She hadn't seen Brenda since a few days before the full moon and while her boss had been very understanding, she hadn't showed up for work in more than a few days. It wasn't her fault, of course, but she felt like she should tell Brenda what was going on anyway.

Once she got to the shop she was surprised to see a few reporters outside of it. She put the hood of her cloak up over her head and slipped in through the back entrance to avoid them. "Brenda!" She called.

"Lavender?" Brenda's incredulous voice floated back to her. The older woman bustled through the curtains into the back room, staring at her employee with shock. "They told me you were a werewolf, that you were being kept at the Ministry. Did... what happened?"

"I... I was attacked," Lavender said, slightly taken aback by the fear in Brenda's eyes. The woman had always been so accepting of her scars and her story, it was disconcerting to see apprehension on her face. "I'm not a werewolf. The Ministry held me like a prisoner for three days, I just got out yesterday."

Brenda raked her eyes over Lavender, sighing once she was done. "Well, I'm glad you seem to be alright. But... Lavender, I really hate to do this, but with the current fear of werewolves, there's been pressure for me to let you go. Nearly half the clientele has read about your attack in the papers and most of them have brought concerns to me about having a werewolf working for me. I am so sorry."

Lavender flinched, despite the gentleness of Brenda's tone. "I understand." She turned and left the shop before Brenda could say anything else. She did understand – it was just more of the misunderstanding fear that drove most of the wizarding population in their dealings with werewolves. She was starting to see where Adeline, the woman she had met at the Half Moon Tavern the night of the full moon, was coming from. She might not be a werewolf but everyone thought she was, and it was costing her personal relationships and employment.

She did her grocery shopping to restock her barren cabinets before heading home. Brenda's actions had hurt but at the same time, the woman did have a business to run. Still, now she supposed she was unemployed, which meant she would have to start hunting for a new job soon. She wasn't looking forward to that. Maybe the Half Moon was hiring servers. She could always do that.

Lavender got home early in the afternoon and put her food away. She felt oddly disconnected from the world. Maybe it was because it didn't feel like the world wanted her around, or at least like the normal humans didn't want her around. And that was just ridiculous, because she was just as normal as the next person.

She sat and thought as the sun went down, then opened her curtains and stared at the moon. She could feel it healing her wounds, more slowly than before, but still healing them. It made her feel rejuvinated and alive and she stripped down to next to nothing to let the moonlight shine on her bare skin. The moonstone glowed on its golden chain and she ran her fingers over it with a smile. She had almost forgotten about it, but she was immensely grateful that despite her ordeal, it had stayed with her. She looked down at it, the moonlight reflecting brightly into her eyes.

Lavender felt herself being filled with a wild energy the longer she stood under the moon's glow. A feral smile spread across her face and she shook her hair out, shivering slightly under the moonlight. She wanted to go out. It wasn't like it had been a few nights ago, a frantic need to get out of her house, but rather a desire to go be out among people, to dance the night away and show off. It was Saturday night, she realized suddenly, and it was a good night to go out.

She strode to her closet on cat-quiet feet. She pawed through the assortment of dresses – too long, too drab, to severely cut. She felt angry at her situation and lonely and excited and wild all at once. Stealing a look at herself in the mirror on the side of her closet she usually avoided, she met her own eyes which radiated her emotions, yellow-brown hot against her pale skin. Her recent wounds were only partially healed and stood out stark against her face and neck. She reached further into her closet, stretching deep into the back of it where she kept the dusty box that she had hidden all her little dresses in after she had been attacked the first time.

Lavender pulled out a red one, blood red silk barely hitting her mid thigh when she put it on. It revealed all of her scars, only barely covering the claw marks that started on her left hip. The spiderweb thin straps left the bite marks and the ripped skin of her shoulders and neck out for the world to see. For once she left off all the heavy coats foundation and powder she used to cover the slashes on her face. She accented her eyes with a little liner and mascara and painted her lips a deep red that matched her dress exactly, then slipped her feet into her knee-high leather boots.

It was the work of a second to remove the silencing charm from the heels, and she took a few steps to remember the click-clack of the heels on the ground. No more hiding, no more slinking to the side of the street. Her body was nothing to be ashamed of. _She_ was nothing to be ashamed of. Her figure was amazing even if her skin was torn, and she intended to show off tonight. Lavender pinned her curls up with a red and gold silk clip, revealing her scarred neck and shoulders even more. Looking at herself in the mirror, she tried her old coy, come hither smile. It was still there, a little rusty from lack of use and the tightness of her scars, but it was there. Parvati would be proud.

With that thought to give her warmth, Lavender threw a cloak on and stepped out her door. She strode down the street and reveled in the click-clack of her heels on the cobblestones, stretching out her legs in a ground eating walk that oozed confidence. No more hiding or flinching when people stared at her. She recalled the appreciative looks she started getting from the male students around the end of her fourth year and remembered what it felt like to feel desired for the first time and let that memory fuel her attitude. She was hot as hell and wanted the world to know it.

Lavender walked through the Leaky Cauldron like she owned the place, with a thought of apology to Hannah. She felt a smile curl her lips as her heightened senses registered the looks from the people at the bar and tables. No ducking down, no hiding. She strode through the pub and out into the back, letting herself through to Diagon Alley with all the sassiness she could muster. She walked to the Dragon's Head by going right down the middle of Diagon Alley, loosing her cloak and removing it as she drew close to the bar.

She gave her cloak to the doorman, bypassing the line at the door with a flash of white teeth and a glowing look at the bouncer. He looked over her scars frankly and she raised her eyebrows at him, to which she got a slight grin and a nod to enter. She blew him a kiss as she walked in. Confidence was everything.

Making her way to the bar was the work of a few moments with the press of people in the place, but when she did she ordered firewhiskey, neat. She tipped the bartender well as she took her shot, downing it in one go. It burned her throat in a way that reminded her of kissing Seamus, the taste of alcohol on both their lips, before she pushed that memory away. She didn't need a man to make her feel whole, she had to do that herself.

Tips of her fingers tingling from the shot, she stepped over to the dance floor. It felt like it had been years since she danced but once she took to the floor her body remembered. Lavender didn't know the song but she had always been a good dancer, even if her singing voice had been akin to a cat having its tail stepped on. She raised her arms over her head, basking in the feeling of the crowd, the rush of energy of all the people around her. She could smell them, she realized, their arousal and their drinks and their sweat, and far from scaring her like it had before, she reveled in her increased senses. It just let her enjoy her night all the more.

A few people came to dance with or near her, men and women alike, drawn by her energy. She welcomed them with open arms. Some fled once they saw what she looked like but then others stayed and it kindled hope inside her, hope that maybe some witches and wizards could be brought to accept people like her, scars and all. But those were thoughts for another night. Tonight was about dancing until she couldn't walk and losing herself in the momentum of the crowd. She was alive and unashamed and intended to bask in that feeling and she did until the Dragon's Head shut down for the night and she stumbled home, drunk on the energy of the night and nothing more.

* * *

Probably no updates until Monday, sorry! My mother is in town for the weekend and I would be a terrible daughter if I didn't spend time with her. I hope y'all reading are enjoying my story so far - please do leave a review if you are, I can't tell you how much it means to me! Lots of love, and I'll post up something new on Monday! 3, Vee


	17. Chapter 17

Woah sorry that was a long pause! Wasn't expecting it to take that long. I'm all moved into a new house and here's a new chapter to celebrate!

* * *

The moon began its slow march towards full again but rather than being afraid, Lavender was energized by it. She found herself with too much time on her hands because her work had let her go, but she was hesitant to try to find a new job. She had enough away in savings that she didn't have to immediately worry about money.

She went out more and more, refusing to hide. She kept the silencing charm off her heels and kept a proud look on her face and her chin high as she walked down the streets, both wizarding and muggle. Lavender stared down more than one person who looked at her scars a little too long for idle curiosity, and every time she did it she felt more and more in control of her life.

Lavender awoke one morning to find an owl pecking at her window. She rarely got any post and so the owl stirred a vague sense of worry with her. Her parents mostly didn't owl her, the remnants of the DA all had the golden galleons to communicate with each other... as she untied the letter from the owl's foot she felt a light jolt of panic. She didn't do well with surprises any more.

It was from the Ministry and her worry increased. Her fingers shook slightly as she opened the letter, ignoring the owl as it stole her toast and let itself out the window. A rush of cold wind raced in but the goosebumps on Lavender's arms had nothing to do with the chill.

_Dear Miss Brown,_ the letter started.

_Due to your recent attack, the Department of Magical Creatures requires you to register as a werewolf. We also require you to be present for the coming full moon three days prior to the event itself, as you must check in to the holding pens to ensure your safety and the safety of others. If you need any assistance, please contact the Department of Magical Creatures and we will answer any questions you may have about your new status as well._

_Sincerely,_

_Reba Hawthorne, Werewolf Liason_

Lavender felt her body going cold the more she read. Once she finished the letter she scanned it over again, glaring hard enough to burn holes in the paper. The edges of it had actually started singing before she caught hold over herself and her emotions.

How dare they. She felt a low growl building up deep in her throat and she started pacing her narrow hallway. How dare they demand that she go to the holding pens. She had made herself very clear the last time she had been in the Ministry, or so she had thought. Lavender folded the letter with shaking hands and then threw it into the sink, aiming her wand at it and setting it on fire. She watched as flames licked around the edges of the parchment, curling the corners and turned the whole thing first to black, then to grey ash.

She threw on her cloak and boots and hurried out the door, making her way straight to the Half Moon. It was mostly empty at this time of day and she ordered breakfast from the bartender – rare steak and a cup of coffee. He brought her a slice of toast that had been fried in butter as well and she smiled in thanks, still a little too on edge for the gesture to be totally friendly.

The bartender got it. He returned her smile wryly and then leaned on the counter towards her, not directly facing her but still close enough to be present. He was clearly used to dealing with werewolves. "Haven't seen you around much lately, miss," he commented.

Lavender shrugged, ripping into her meat with her knife. "I was attacked last full moon and held in the Ministry for days. I haven't been very social since then."

The bartender raised his eyebrows and whistled lowly. "I guess not."

"You were held in the Ministry?" A woman's voice asked. Lavender looked around to recognize Adeline, the female half werewolf she had met the night of her most recent attack. Lavender nodded once. "And you got out?" Adeline asked.

A tiny scrap of a proud smile forced its way onto Lavender's face. "They couldn't hold me."

"No one gets out," Adeline said. Lavender dimly noticed the rest of the few people in the Half Moon quieting down to listen to their conversation. "They stick you in the holding pens until you know they control you. That's the whole point of the holding pens."

"They sent me a letter this morning," Lavender admitted, toying with her fork. "They want me to report to the holding pens for the next full moon. I won't do it."

"You can't just defy them like that," another voice chimed in. It was a young werewolf, just some teenage kid whose hair flopped into his eyes. He was rangy and lean, scarred up, and yet still had some bizarre innocence about him. Lavender couldn't help another smile.

"I can and I will. They don't have any hold over me. I wasn't bitten in my attack and I will not go to their holding pens so I can be a chew toy." She paused, looking down at her plate before sweeping her eyes over the motley assortment of people gathered in the Half Moon. "I defied You-Know-Who last year and fought in the Battle of Hogwarts. The Department of Magical Creatures doesn't scare me."

It felt like she was making a speech. She half turned, looking over the scattered dozen or so people. Even the bartender had gone quiet to listen – he had stopped wiping down glasses and she could almost feel his attention on her. "I fought last year so that I could be a part of the wizarding world, not so that I could be penned up like some nightmare thing. I am a person. You are all people. The Ministry doesn't trust us though, and to be part of the wizarding world, not just second class citizens, we need trust.

"Adeline, you told me a few weeks back that the Ministry didn't care about us. I told you that they should care. We are people too, and we need support from the government to make our lives better. I've lost my job because of the attacks I've gone through, I've been screamed at on the streets, I have wounds that refuse to heal without proper medical care and that was denied to me when I was being held at the Ministry. That is wrong, and it needs to change."

"So what do we do?" The young male werewolf asked when she paused again.

_So what do we do_. The question echoed in Lavender's memories like a clanging bell. It was the exact question Ginny had asked Neville at the start of the previous year, when Seamus had gotten himself beaten to hell for mouthing off to the She-Carrow in their compulsory Muggle Studies class. Neville had looked just as lost as Lavender felt when posed with that question. He hadn't been a leader then, though he turned into the best one she would probably ever follow. But Lavender wasn't a leader then or now – for all her words, she still felt like some scared little girl who wanted to bury her face under her blankets and hide from the world.

The wild feeling inside her crooned lowly, a comforting hum in the back of her mind. Neville had stepped up to being a leader in a way that none of them had thought possible. He had pulled them together and made them into fighters who had in turn become leaders for their classmates, the younger students, and themselves. Lavender didn't think she could do that, but maybe she could be enough for these people. She was tired of being stepped on and treated like a beast. She couldn't imagine what some of them must feel.

She smiled gently at the young werewolf. "What's your name?"

"Leo."

"Well Leo, I'm Lavender. What we are going to do is show the Ministry they can trust us. The night of the next full moon, I will sit outside the front doors of the Ministry and show them that I won't change, that I won't lose control of myself in the light of the moon. I don't trust them, they don't trust us – but we need trust if we're going to recover. If they won't make the first steps I will.

"But there will be _no violence_," Lavender said, looking away from Leo and out again across the collection of werewolves. "All it will take is one snarl and they'll be on us so hard we'll never get another chance to prove that we are harmless. The first person who moves to attack or even threaten anyone I will Stun and chain up. _We are not mindless raging creatures_. Let's show them that we won't bite. I won't bite. Who is with me?"

There was silence for a moment, lasting long enough Lavender thought no one would agree.

Then – "I won't," Adeline said, weary eyes meeting Lavender's. "There's been enough fear."

"I won't bite," Leo said.

Lavender felt her first true smile in days spreading across her face as a few others chimed in. Not everyone, and that was fine, but enough of the gathered dozen were speaking up that Lavender knew the word would spread. "Tell your friends," she urged. "Anyone who will listen. Those of you who will turn, take Wolfsbane. Those of you like me who won't, look after those who will. This will only work if we are completely peaceful."

"Max won't do it," Adeline said lowly, looking at Lavender in resignation. "He doesn't think we should have to hide, but he wants to watch the world burn more than he wants to make nice with the Ministry. Danny might. I'll talk to him." She stood up and walked off with a nod to her new leader and Lavender drew a shaky breath.

A few others came up to talk with Lavender before leaving, and she tried to reassure them that she knew what she was doing. She felt like she actually had no idea but that was alright, that was fine. She needed to go talk to Neville – the Ministry would find out about her little demonstration plans soon enough anyway. She was getting up to leave herself when she caught Leo's eye. He looked unsure and she gave him a bracing smile.

"Things are going to be fine, Leo," she reassured him.

"It's not that," he said. He seemed even younger when she looked at him straight on, perhaps only thirteen at the most.

"No work for you today, kid, sorry," the bartender said. Leo glared at him and the man rolled his eyes meaningly at Lavender, who suddenly realized that Leo, with his ragged clothes, ripped shoes, and hungry appearance, was probably homeless.

"Oh," she said quietly. "Tell you what. I'm headed over to my friend Hannah right now – she runs the Leaky Cauldron, I'm sure she's got some dishes to be washed or something. Come with me."

"You don't have to – " Leo muttered, still glaring resentfully at the bartender.

"No, but I'm going to. Come on." She grabbed his arm gently and tugged him along, trying to hide her shock at how thin he was under his clothes, how she could feel the bones in his wrist.

Hannah set Leo to work in a trice, giving him sweeping and a stack of dishes to wash. He set to willingly, making quick work of everything. It made Lavender's heart hurt to see him like this, like he was clearly used to working menial chores for money for food. It was better than stealing, but that wasn't good enough for her. He should be at Hogwarts learning how to use his magic. She had noticed him looking longingly at her wand more than once already and it only furthered her resolve.

She didn't say much to Hannah except that she had something to talk to Neville about, something that would concern the Aurors, and she would prefer he heard it from her rather than through the grapevine. Hannah agreed, inviting her to dinner that night and promising to make Neville be home on time.

Once that was settled Lavender wrangled Leo once more, taking him shopping for new clothes and ignoring his protests. "You want to help me make a difference?" She eventually demanded, pinning him against a wall and letting a little of the wildness look out through her eyes. He nodded and looked away – she was much more dominant than this scrap of a teenager. "Then let me make a difference for you first. The Ministry should be taking care of these things but they're not, so until we make changes we have to care for our own."

She dragged him along to dinner with her that night as well. They showed up well before Neville did and Hannah poured a glass of wine for Lavender and a mug of cider for Leo, who sipped it with wide eyes.

Two sets of footsteps, one familiar and one achingly familiar, made Lavender sit up still. Leo did the same, perhaps unconsciously mirroring her because he seemed very invested in his cider. He stood when she did though, setting his mug down next to her glass on the table.

The door opened and the smell of Neville and Seamus washed over her like a tide. "Hannah, I brought a starving Irishman for you to feed!" Neville called. Lavender could hear the smile in his voice and could also hear Seamus laughing lowly.

"I've got guests, Neville!" Hannah called back. "Lavender, I am so sorry," she whispered. "I had no idea he was coming over."

Lavender shook her head. "Not your fault." Her emotions were swirling around inside her – he had come over to see if she was alright after the attack, she had stripped down to next to nothing in front of him, oh Merlin did he remember that? Of course he would remember that. It made her feel like a fool, like some stupid drunken fool. It had been nice the next morning to wake up and smell him in her house but now, days later, it just made her feel like an idiot.

Neville and Seamus entered the main room. Lavender heard the hiss of Seamus's intake of breath and felt a shiver roll over her. "Damn," Neville swore. "Lavender, I – "

"It's fine, Neville. I just needed to talk to you about something. I can come back another time though," Lavender responded.

She was concentrating so hard on not paying attention to Seamus she almost missed the low growl coming from Leo. She darted a look at the scrawny kid, who was glaring at Seamus with hot yellow eyes. "Leo," she said. He ignored her so she snapped in a louder, gruffer voice, "_Leo_!"

He whipped his head around and looked at her. "What?"

"Knock it off," she demanded quietly, a slight growl in her voice too.

"But you – "

"Shut up. We're going."

"But he's making you nervous, Lavender, and scared! I can smell it!"

"I said shut up!" She snarled, raising a corner of her mouth to bare a few teeth at him. The young werewolf looked down and away, submission in the lines of his body.

"Sorry," he whined.

"It's fine," she said, resolving to be regretful about snapping at him later. She took him by the shoulder and dragged him out of Hannah's flat before anyone else could say anything.

Her heels clicked as she strode down the street, drawing Leo in her wake. Once they were a few streets away from Hannah's place she stopped and slumped against a wall, passing her hand over her face.

Merlin, she hadn't needed to see Seamus. It wasn't like the last time she had seen him, in a haze of whiskey and warmth. He was hardened from his work, curse scar marks over his robes from training or maybe something more deadly. It was just another reminder of how her life was different now. They were still fighting Dark wizards in the Aurors – soon she would be fighting the Ministry itself.

"I'm sorry," Leo's quiet voice spoke up.

"No," Lavender shook her head, taking her hand away to look at him. "I'm sorry. I was surprised to see him there and I took it out on you."

Leo shrugged. "It's okay. That's what wolves do."

She gave Leo a sad smile. "I'm not a wolf, Leo. I'm a person. That's what all this is about."


	18. Chapter 18

Wow whoops, that was a much longer break than I had planned! Life, man, it's a crazy thing. Anyway here's a new chapter, with more to come soon! 3, Vee

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Two nights before the full moon Lavender had called a meeting in the Half Moon Tavern to finalize their plans. More werewolves and half werewolves had showed up than she had been expecting, and she had felt a nervous flutter in her stomach as she had stood up on the bar to get the attention of them all.

"I know you all know the plan!" She had called out. "I need to remind you that no violence will be tolerated. If one of us bites, we will all be caged or killed, and there won't be another chance like this. Everyone who needs to take Wolfsbane should have done so, and if you think you are going to have any problems, please, don't come. The Aurors are going to be on high alert for anyone who looks even a little bit twitchy, so we need everyone to stay as calm as possible!"

She had heard a few low growls at that and stamped her heel on the bar, the loud noise drawing the attention back to her. "_I mean it_! Unless you want us to be at the mercy of the Ministry for the next ten years at least, leave any personal vendettas here! I'm angry, you're angry – everyone's angry! An old ex boyfriend of mine would say we're all fucking pissed!" That got laughter and howls of agreement and she had pushed aside thoughts of Seamus. Time for that later. "I get it! We've been beaten down and we're ready to bite! _But we're not going to_! We are people just as much as the Aurors of the Ministry are people, and we are not going to hurt them! We are going to prove to them that we can contain ourselves, govern ourselves, and in return they will see us as people! I won't bite!"

"I won't bite!" Chorused Leo on the heels of her speech, and she had been immensely grateful to him for that. His call started others in echoing her, in echoing their rallying cry. There had been drinks and food after that, and an atmosphere of hope that Lavender had grown unused to being in the company of werewolves for so long.

Now, with the full moon lurking just below the horizon, Lavender found herself once more at the Half Moon, this time standing at the door rather than on the bar. The barkeeper gave her a travel flagon of warm cider with a good luck smile as she waved once, leading nearly fifty werewolves and half werewolves like herself out into the streets. It wasn't a long walk to the Ministry's entrance – they had made a new entrance for magical folk a few streets over for Diagon Alley after the last war, in an effort to have better public relations – and she knew she had to time it carefully, to get there before all the werewolves started turning.

Leo paced beside her, an edgy dark-haired kid out of the corner of her eye. She had assigned everyone who wouldn't turn a few werewolves to keep tabs on, typically ones they already had a relationship with. Lavender was responsible for Leo and she rested a calming hand on his shoulder. He had been staying with her the past few days, once she had figured out that he didn't have anywhere to go, and once Hannah had learned about it she had insisted on feeding both of them. Already Leo was looking healthier, and having clothes and shoes that fit helped too.

Hannah had been excited about Lavender's plan to show the Ministry, but Neville had been more reserved. "It's not that I don't think something needs to be done," he had explained. "You're right in that. But... It just worries me. With the rogue werewolf still loose, the Ministry is really nervous. They already have heard about the protest you're planning and there's going to be a full turn out of Aurors, plus enforcement from the Department of Magical Creatures. Just be careful, Lavender."

She had smiled at him. "You're not going to order me to not do it?"

He had returned her smile and shaken his head slightly. "I haven't been your commander in almost a year. And it's really good to see you this excited about a cause, especially one like this. But I really don't want to have to disobey orders to shoot at you."

"You'd disobey orders for me?"

"Of course he would," Hannah chimed in. "The Aurors will never mean more than Dumbledore's Army."

With that memory to warm her Lavender felt a smile spread over her face. The motley assortment of people behind her drew closer together as they approached the magical entrance to the Ministry. She could feel them looking to her and so she was careful to walk with her head high, with deliberate, measured steps, with a light smile on. Despite the rising moon she didn't feel the wild energy she had the last moon – instead she felt calm and centered, like the wild wolf inside her mind was content with their path.

The moonstone around her neck was shining like a tiny beacon by the time they reached the steps of the Ministry, and she let its light show and illuminate her. If she was to be their leader then they should be able to see that she wasn't scared, that she was determined.

Aurors lined the stairs and formed a block across the entrance to the Ministry itself. She didn't dwell on any of the faces. Enforcers from the Department of Magical Creatures were there as well, wands held at the ready. She was grateful for the warning Neville had given her about them, because it meant that she could warn the crowd of people now following her before they had left the Half Moon, so there weren't any surprises.

She came to a stop in the middle of the street in front of the Ministry, her people crowding in behind her. The moon was just moment from rising and she raised her voice, calling out to the gathered magical enforcement and any members of the Ministry who might be listening. There were regular wizards and witches as bystanders as well. She could hear their fearful murmurs on the night air but she ignored them. "My name is Lavender Brown!" She said, lifting her hands to draw more attention. "Behind me I bring people like me, who have been bitten by werewolves but who haven't been turned, and werewolves who want to live peacefully! We have been discriminated against for what we are, for what the Ministry and the wizarding world imagine us to be! But we are people before anything else, and we have hopes and dreams just like everyone else here does! To prove that we are people, we will remain here, _peacefully_, the whole night under the light of the full moon. We are trusting you to trust us! We will hurt no one! We will not bite!"

"We will not bite!" Shouted Leo from next to her. She smiled at him and he returned a pained grimace. "Lavender..." he whimpered.

"Shh, Leo," she said, going to him and taking his head onto her shoulder. His change was beginning and she knew it hurt. Behind her, other werewolves were starting their transformations as well. Though most of her attention was on helping Leo she was also aware of the Aurors shifting slightly on the steps. This was going to be the hardest part to get everyone through.

Slowly, achingly slowly, Lavender watched Leo transform. She hadn't actually seen a werewolf transform before and though the Wolfsbane made it bearable she could tell, by the time a small white wolf stood in front of her, that he was exhausted from the pain. The muted whimpers had echoed all around the street for nearly ten minutes and now the moon rose, cold and silent, onto a ragged assortment of wolves and people with yellow eyes. Lavender picked up the clothing he had shed and tucked it away for when he changed back.

Lavender turned her gaze back to the Aurors. Most of them had their wands out and she could smell their fear on the air, but instead of rousing her wolf like she had expected, instead it just made her sad. So rather than start shouting again, rather than trying to make another speech like she had planned, she just sat down on the street and rested her hand on Leo's furry shoulder. He laid down next to her and curled up, resting his head in her lap with a sigh.

She took a look behind her, seeing with immense relief that the other wolves were following his example and settling down. Most of the half werewolves were sitting on the ground like she was as well. She opened her flagon of cider and took a sip, keeping her breathing even and calm.

The moon rising up above the buildings caused a bit of a stir. Even Lavender wasn't able to control the shudder that arched from her scalp to her toes when the moonlight touched her skin. It flooded into the street and she could hear the others moving around, shifting against the pull of it. Leo raised his head and looked at her, yellow eyes meeting yellow, and it helped calm her. She managed a shaky smile for him and patted his shoulder. "Thanks. Let's go calm the others."

She got up slowly, Leo rising to his feet next to her. They walked along quietly, Lavender checking in with the people she could and Leo providing a calming presence by her side. The moonstone around her neck was glowing more fiercely than ever out under the light of the full moon and she felt rather than saw people and wolves turning to look at her because of it. She quietly thanked Seamus for the gift – even if he hadn't intended it as anything more than a helpful token, it helped turn her into a beacon for her people.

Nearly two hours until midnight, a small group of Aurors was dispatched to speak with her. She tangled her fingers in Leo's ruff to settle his growl before it properly started. "We are harmless," she reminded him quietly, stifling a giggle at his sigh. Wolfsbane made the werewolves more like wolf-shaped people than wolves, since it allowed them to retain their thinking skills. "How may I help you?" She asked as the Aurors drew close. Neville was one of them and he rolled his eyes just slightly at Lavender when she saw him.

"You've made your point, Miss Brown," the leader, a grey-bearded, stocky man, said gruffly. "We think it would be best if you would take your pack and get out of here."

"We're not a pack, sir," she corrected him politely. "We are a group of people."

He grumbled something under his breath. Perhaps he thought he was being quiet, but with her sharp ears made sharper by the full moon, she could hear everything. "I'm not actually stupid, sir, nor am I a bitch. Maybe I used to be stupid, but I learned quite a lot fighting You-Know-Who and his regime last year at Hogwarts, so I don't think I'm stupid any longer. And maybe I used to be a bitch, but I don't think I am any more. I've learned quite a lot about accepting other people. And I don't think we should be using that kind of language anyway – my friend here, Leo, he's only thirteen." She smiled down at the wolf who looked at her with trust in his eyes, and that trust made her smile grow.

She fixed the other two Aurors, including Neville, with her yellow eyes. "May I help you with anything else?"

She was not even eighteen, but apparently something about the fire in her eyes made even trained law enforcement back down. Or maybe it was because she was still a teenager than they did. It was hard to see her as a threat, she thought, because she was barely legal.

The rest of the night passed peacefully. Lavender could feel the tension drain out of the air as the stars danced over her head. It helped when the bystanders started going home, now that it was proved that nothing dramatic was going to happen. By three in the morning, it was just the Aurors, the enforcers from the Department of Magical Creatures, and the werewolves left. Lavender's cider was long gone and she was getting hungry. Maybe once Leo turned human again they could get breakfast somewhere.

It was strange. She was tired from the excitement of what they were doing but she wanted nothing to do with sleep. Leo had passed out next to her nearly an hour before and was snoring lightly, paws twitching as he dreamed. Lavender lay back and used his side as a pillow, careful not to wake him up. All around her the street was filled with people doing the same, leaning on the wolves or taking naps. It was a remarkable peaceful scene and the gentle smile that hadn't left Lavender's face the whole night made her even happier. This felt good. All of this. It felt right.

The moon began its descent about an hour before dawn and the wolves all came awake, beginning their changes. It was easier on them this time, she could see, the change happening less dramatically and more quickly than the first one had been. She had been warned that the wolves wouldn't have any clothing on when they changed and so she had told the half werewolves who had been looking out for the wolves to pick up all the clothing they had shed after the first change.

When Leo started to change she dropped a cloak over him. Some of the older werewolves had made that suggestion so that a bunch of naked people didn't appear on the streets. Most werewolves didn't have a problem with nudity but she knew the good people of the Ministry would be scandalized, so Lavender had instilled the cloak policy in her plans for the night. Soon enough a shivering, naked boy clutched a cloak around him and she passed him his clothes. His movements were slow and achy and made Lavender crack her own back in sympathy – she was stiff and sore from the night as well, though it was still nothing like the last full moon she had gone through. And clearly nothing like the full change.

When all her people were standing on two legs again she turned to the Ministry employees. "We didn't bite," she said quietly, though in a voice that carried in the still morning air. "We stayed here all night and didn't hurt a single thing, didn't hunt, didn't kill, didn't bite. We are people. All we want is to be treated as such." Perhaps it wasn't the best rallying cry but it was all she had left in her.

She slung her arm over Leo's shoulders and was joined by Adeline and Danny walking next to her. She let her gaze roam over the people gathered around her and was surprised to see Brandon's face. He gave her a weak smile which she returned – maybe he wasn't a lost cause after all. This whole thing was about recovery and redemption anyway, so the least she could do would be to give her own people the benefit of the doubt. He looked exhausted and when Adeline nodded at him, she knew suddenly that he had been one of the wolves that had been there through the night.

"Let's get breakfast," she suggested to her weary crowd. A rumble of agreement, half growl, half human voice, met her ears and she couldn't help but laugh a little. Maybe they weren't wholly human, but there wasn't a soul alive who could turn down breakfast.


	19. Chapter 19

The next morning Lavender woke with a smile on her face and none of the usual full moon hangover. After their protest they had all gotten breakfast, crowding around the table at the Half Moon in a mass. It was more connected than she had ever seen the werewolves before and she was immensely proud of everyone.

Part of her still couldn't believe that it had gone over as well as it had. Of course she had had faith in her people, she wouldn't have done it otherwise, but there was always the tiny fear of 'what if?' lurking in the back of her mind. What if the Ministry had tried to use force to push them away? What if there had been more people? Lavender shook her head. Thinking like that would get her nowhere good. And anyway, it had worked! Or at least she hoped it had worked.

The Ministry had been silent the day after. Lavender had been on edge all day waiting for an owl or a knock at her door after she had dismissed everyone to go back to their homes. Leo was still passed out on her couch – he had dropped down onto the cushions around four in the afternoon when they had gotten back to her house and he hadn't moved since then. She would be worried about him except she could see him breathing and she knew the transformation took a lot out of him.

He had spoken to her a little about it when she had bought him lunch in a Muggle cafe. He'd been bitten when he was young, she knew that, and more often than not he didn't have access to Wolfsbane. There were black market dealers, he said, when the Ministry didn't have it available. That had caught Lavender by surprise – not the black market, but that the Ministry wouldn't have Wolfsbane – and when she mentioned it to Leo his mouth had twisted in a smile that was not at all happy.

"They always _have _it," he had elaborated, "but it's expensive. And recently they want you to sign binding contracts to show up at the cages for the three days around the moon. No one wants to, as you put it, be a chew toy."

"How did you get Wolfsbane this time then?" Lavender had asked, feeling suddenly guilty that she had required Wolfsbane to partake in the protest but actually had no idea how the werewolves present had obtained it.

Leo had shrugged and avoided meeting her eyes. "Black market."

Lavender had fixed him with a look but he had shut down and she had sighed quietly. She didn't know what she had expected and was saddened to realize that she wasn't angry with him, she was disappointed in her own government for failing the boy. That was just another reason to call out the Ministry.

She looked over at Leo in the early morning light. He was sleeping quietly, facing looking more relaxed than she had ever seen him. With the moon on the wane of course he would feel better, but she hoped to herself that he was also more relaxed because he had a place to be. She smiled softly at him. He seemed to have attached himself to her during the past few days and it was wonderful to her to have someone else in the house again. She felt a rush of affection for him and she realized that she already felt about him like she felt about her little sister, Violet. Except that Leo looked at her with hope and Violet could barely contain her fear.

With that in mind, she decided to visit her parents. Violet wouldn't be home, most likely, but Lavender wanted to explain to her family what was going on and what she had done before it hit the papers. She scribbled a quick note to Leo and put it on the coffee table in front of him so he would see it when he woke up. She tied her scarf around her neck before headed out, make up free. Her parents needed to accept her with her scars and as she was.

It was the work of a moment to apparate to their house and she looked at the garden walkway fondly before she walked up it and knocked on the door. She had so many good memories of this house. Lavender knocked on the door and was surprised when her mother opened it in seconds. Her mother's eyes widened when she took in her daughter, and then Lavender was shocked when she was suddenly pulled into a tight hug.

Belatedly, she realized that she hadn't written or been to visit since her last attack. Guilt washed over her and she returned her mother's embrace. "Sorry mum," she whispered, burying her face in her mother's sweet-smelling hair. "I meant to come by, but..."

"Shh," Marilyn Brown soothed her. "You had no reason to. We have been terrible to you."

Lavender pulled back. "What?" It was true, but she hadn't expected a flat out statement of the fact.

Marilyn nodded decisively, tears sparkling at the corner of her eyes. "Bitten or no, scarred or no, you are still our daughter, and I am ashamed to have forgotten that."

That was enough to make Lavender break down in sobs, prompting her mother to pull her into another hug and make comforting noises.

Half an hour later Lavender was still sniffling but she had a cup of tea and was sitting on her parent's couch with a blanket draped around her shoulders, explaining what she had done two nights before at the Ministry. Her mother had apologized for her father being at work and had promised to have a family dinner soon so they could all catch up, especially with what Lavender had just told her.

"And you can bring Seamus too," Marilyn enthused.

Lavender winced. "About that, Mum..."

And that required another explanation she didn't want to give, but she did anyway. She also told her mum about Alexei, and Marilyn was properly outraged that someone would end a relationship because of how she looked. Perhaps a little too outraged – Lavender could almost smell the shame and regret on her mother. It was alright though, because she could see that Marilyn genuinely wanted to try, and that gave her more hope for the integration of the werewolves and the wizarding population.

She left an hour after that, after many other hugs from her mother. It was strange to have so much human contact after what felt like weeks without it, but it was the best sort of strange possible. Lavender left with a light step and a lighter heart and apparated back to downtown London feeling happier than she had in weeks.

Lavender had just turned to corner to her street, shopping bag in hand from the grocery store she had just stopped at, when she saw her door open and Leo glaring at a tall, dark-skinned man wearing formal robes. "Lavender's not here," Leo growled.

"Easy, Leo," Lavender called. His hair was still mussed from sleep and she thought that the Ministry man must have woken him up – and then that train of thought was promptly derailed as the man turned to look at her and she recognized Kingsley Shacklebolt, Minister of Magic. "Hello Minister," she said breathlessly, forcing herself to keep walking forward. "What can I do for you?"

Minister Shacklebolt gave her a slow smile and held out his hand. "On the contrary, Miss Brown, I am here to discuss what_ I _can do for _you_."

She blinked at that. "Well then," she managed, shaking his hand.

Lavender found herself walking next to him as he led her into the Ministry of Magic a few moments after that. She had passed off her groceries to Leo and told him to wait for her, that she would be returning soon. "I'll come looking if you don't," Leo had promised with a growl. That had made her dart a wary look at the Minister, who was apparently pretending not to hear, though the tiny twitch of his lips suggested that he was charmed and amused by the young werewolf's promise.

Minister Shacklebolt led her to his office where he offered her a chair and tea. She accepted both of them, hairs on the back of her neck still standing on end from all the looks she had gotten on the way in. The Minister had clearly just ignored them but Lavender could still feel the stares. It didn't bother her like it used to, didn't make her want to hide in a corner and cry until they stopped looking; rather, it made her want to snarl at them and challenge them until they looked away.

"Your demonstration on the night of the full moon was very moving," Minister Shacklebolt started with, yanking Lavender's attention back to the present. "My advisors were concerned about safety but it seems like you had your pack well in hand. There are some who say that despite not being a werewolf yourself, you must have the blood of an alpha in your veins."

Lavender couldn't help the snort that escaped her. Then she blushed and ducked her head, hoping he didn't think she was laughing at him.

"You find that amusing?" He asked, fixing her with a look that she couldn't decipher.

Lavender composed herself with a few steadying breaths. Her people were counting on her to represent them well. She couldn't just laugh at the Minister because he said things and didn't know better. Also, she was a leader in her community, and she would not allow herself to be cowed by this man, no matter how intimidating her was. With those two thoughts to keep her in line, she smiled and leaned forward a little, nodding.

"With all due respect, Minister Shacklebolt, that is a load of hippogriff dung. Wolves don't form packs and fight to be an alpha. Wolf packs are family units. But you do get pack dynamics when you mix humans and wolves together, because _humans_ fight for dominance and _humans_ wants to follow others who are stronger than themselves. When you combine that human desire with wolfish instincts, it can get messy. But please believe me when I say that the vast majority of werewolves and people like me who had been affected do not want to be violent or cause chaos. Most werewolves I know aren't even educated and that is unforgivable. It's horrifying to me that but for an accident of when I was bitten, I might not have had the chance to go to Hogwarts."

The words were pouring out of her. It was like everything she had thought but hadn't had a chance to say was all coming out at once, and some part of her in the back of her mind was wildly grateful that the Minister seemed actually willing to let her talk, and more than that, actually willing to listen.

"I might not have gone to Hogwarts," she continued, "and if that hadn't happened, I wouldn't have met my friends, wouldn't have fought against You-Know-Who, wouldn't have learned to care about the wizarding world as I do. Of course many werewolves are violent towards humans and don't care about their way of life, because they have never had the chance to learn about society. They're uneducated and wandless, and so are unemployable to the vast majority of the wizarding world. Obviously they can't live among muggles and so they're relegated to the edges of our society. Of course they don't care about wizards, because wizards don't care about them."

"So what do you suggest, Miss Brown?" Minister Shacklebolt asked when she stopped. Her heartrate was up and she knew her skin must be flushed, but she kept her eyes on him. She had to make him understand.

"Let the young go to school," she answered immediately. "Get the older werewolves opportunities for education as well. Trust them with wands and teach them how to use them. They, and I, want to be treated like humans. Do away with the city cages and make a place out in the country somewhere for the full moon that they can go to be free of the city and not be around people. Merlin's sake, we have a dragon preserve in the middle of the country! If we can keep dragons a secret we can set aside a place for the werewolves once a month. And make Wolfsbane free and easy to get, that's very important. There needs to be an organization set up that werewolves can go where they will be treated like people, not like wild things that can't control themselves. Werewolves aren't magical creatures, they're humans that turn into wolves once a month. Asking werewolves to deal with the Department of Magical Creatures is dehumanizing and degrading, and it needs to stop."

"I completely agree," Minister Shacklebolt said when she paused for breath.

"I wasn't done," Lavender blurted out, then bit her lip. Hopefully that wasn't too impertinent.

Luckily, the minister laughed. "I have no doubts that you could keep going. That is what makes you the perfect person to run this new department. I have taken the liberty of having an office set up for you, well away from the Department of Magical Creatures. Would you like to see it?"

Lavender was speechless at the instant, whole-hearted agreement and endorsement of her half-baked plans. "But I don't have any experience managing a department!"

"Doubtless others will say the same," Shacklebolt agreed. "But you are in a unique position in regards to the fact that you already have a relationship with the community here in London, as well as having the drive to do something about their situation. For this, and because of the stellar recommendation that Mr. Longbottom gave me when I asked his opinion on the matter, I can think of no one more qualified."

"Minister, I'm not even eighteen. People look at me and see a child." She didn't know where all these fears were coming from. Maybe it was just the fact that someone was actually trusting her to do something, and no one had put quite that much trust in her in a long time.

"On the contrary, people look at you and they see an accomplished young woman who has persevered through incredible hardship, against odds that would have broken others, and was in no small way a part of the organization that helped defeat Lord Voldemort. They see a young woman who has the regal bearing of a queen when she has been insulted and dehumanized, as my Head of Magical Creatures is still squawking about," he added with a lazy smile. "You left quite the impression the last time you were here. Allow me to help you channel that fire and passion into something that will help those among us who have been wrongfully neglected for far too long."

All Lavender could say to that was yes. And with acceptance from both her mother and the Minister of Magic, it had turned into a remarkable day. She couldn't wait to tell Leo and announce the news at the Half Moon. They were getting what the asked for, and Lavender felt like she was on top of the world.


	20. Chapter 20

Lavender had been bouncing around the flat all morning waiting for it to be late enough for her to go into her brand new office. Leo was grumbling at her good-naturedly and she couldn't help but grin at him whenever they made eye contact. She was so excited. She was getting everything they had asked for with their demonstration the other night, and what was more, the Minister of Magic himself wanted to support her!

The moment the clock chimed seven in the morning she bolted out the door, dragging Leo along with her. She practically ran to the Ministry and flashed her badge and wand proudly at the door. She turned her walk into something more approaching a strut totally on accident as she made her way to her office, high heels going click-clack on the marble floor. She tossed her hair back when people looked her way – she worked here, she could do whatever she wanted.

Her office, when she found it, was not very large. There was a waiting room and two small rooms off of it, and Lavender's first task was to have Leo help her remove the doors to the small rooms. Instead of the door she hung up a sheer grey curtain across the entrance to the room she had claimed as her personal office. Werewolves could hear through doors like that one had been anyway, so there wasn't really a point to keeping an actual door there. Plus, she wanted nothing that would feel like a cage. There had been more than enough cages.

The charmed windows were a nice touch, though Lavender would have preferred a real window. She changed the window setting to bright sunshine, just like the April morning outside was. It fit her mood and she was almost dancing as she went around the office, arranging her desk and chairs to her liking.

Once that was done she called Leo in. He had been dusting the other room but she had him stop that, and sat him down in the chair across from her desk. "So Leo, how can Inhuman Resources help you today?" She asked with a bright smile.

Leo snorted with laughter. "Is that actually what you're calling this?"

Lavender shook her head. "No, I don't think it would go over well with everyone if I did that. The Minister said it would be called the Werewolf Center until I picked out a name that I liked... and that wasn't Inhuman Resources." They shared a laugh over that and then Lavender leaned forward, fixing Leo with a look. "But seriously, Leo. How can we help you?"

He looked confused. "How do you mean?"

"What do you want to do with your life?" Lavender asked. "We can start there. If you could do anything in the world for a living, what would it be?"

"I'm a werewolf. I'm always going to be a werewolf. I can't just become an Auror."

"You want to be an Auror?"

Leo ducked his head and flushed, clearly a little embarrassed about saying that. "Doesn't matter what I want. I'm a werewolf."

"Leo, that's the whole point of Inhuman Resources. If you want to be an Auror, let's find out how to make you an Auror. Just because you're out of commission for a few days a month doesn't mean that you can't be an Auror. First though, I think we need to start with an education for you. Did you want to go to Hogwarts when you were a kid?" A vague plan was forming in Lavender's mind. There would be much hinging on the goodwill of the professors at Hogwarts, but Lavender thought she might have enough sway over the professors because they had watched her get her teeth kicked in all during seventh year. They had hated that, she knew, and if she could wrangle an education for Leo out of them, to prove that it could be done and would be safe, that would be more than enough repayment for her.

"Course I wanted to go," Leo said, then continued with a grumble. "But I can't. I'm a werewolf, and I'm too old to start there anyway."

"And you never will start there with that attitude. Give me a little bit to work on this, but I'm almost totally sure I can have you enrolled in Hogwarts starting this September."

His eyes got wide with something like shock and hope and still a little bit of mistrust and that more than anything made Lavender swear to herself that she would make this work. "Really?"

"Really," she confirmed. "It will be hard, and you will probably have to start with the first years, so you'll be older than all of them. And you can't snap or snarl at anyone because I can already tell you that there will be people looking to throw you out for any small transgression. But if you can do that, we can get you an education at Hogwarts."

"Would I get a wand?" His voice was a whisper when he asked the question, and she could hear so much longing in his words that it broke her heart.

"Well, you can't do magic at Hogwarts without one, so yes. Now, why don't you finish cleaning up here and I'm going to go to the Headmistress and ask her about the terms of admission for you." She gave him a smile and he returned it with a look of hero worship that made her glow. "I'll be back in a few hours. If anyone comes in, ask them to wait or they can leave a message and I will see them later."

She strode out of her office and to the apparation point, radiant smile still on her face. The look that Leo had given her when she said he could go to Hogwarts gave her more than enough reason to see it through to the end, no matter what strings she had to pull to get him there.

A few moments later she stood outside the gates of Hogwarts with a roaring in her ears and a lump in her throat and her eyes burning. She hadn't been back here since the morning of the battle and to see the new stone was a shock. What was more of a shock was that as she looked over the lawn, she remembered clearly where friends fell and died, and whenever she blinked she saw the green grass turned dark red with blood.

Her hands started shaking and her breathing grew rapid and shallow. She leaned against the cool iron of the gates and tried not to remember how they had been blasted apart, torn to shreds by giants, tried not to remember how floods of Death Eaters had poured through the gates that were supposed to protect the students – Merlin help them, they had all just been children. And _he_ had been a part of the mass, _him_ with his claws and his teeth and his hot, stinking breath. He had pinned her down and ripped her apart just like the gates, had bit into her flesh and torn her to pieces.

A sob wrenched its way from her throat and she sank down to her knees, sliding down the iron bars to collapse on the ground. Oh Merlin and Morgana both, who thought she was well enough to lead anything? She couldn't even face her own demons when they came to call – how was she supposed to help others with their problems? She was just a kid pretending to be an adult, like they had done in seventh year, and then so many of them had died.

And the ones that had lived... they couldn't let go of the war. Seamus and Neville and Terry Boot and so many of the other survivors had thrown themselves into the Auror work. They might boast about how accelerated their program was but that just meant that they had trained themselves to be killers before getting any formal training about it, and that was wrong. Did they feel like this when they came back here, or did they still view it as a battlefield? Did they all just see everything as a battlefield?

Lavender felt the wetness on her cheeks before she had even really realized she had gotten to the crying part of her breakdown. She hadn't had a meltdown like this in months, maybe because she had been keeping herself busy. She drew a shaking breath in, trying to remember the coping tactics she had been taught after the final battle. Deep breaths, calming, centering.

It wasn't working. She could hold it together long enough for the space of a few breaths and then she looked out over the grounds again and collapsed. Whimpers like those of a kicked dog were escaping from her now and she realized that the ever-present wolf in the back of her mind was keening along with her. The werewolf side of her just made her emotions more present, more vibrant, and therefore even harder to control. At least the moon was on the wane, or she might actually be howling.

"I hate this," she whispered to the quiet road in front of her. Lavender wrapped her arms around her knees and drew them to her chest, staring with focused intensity in the exact opposite direction of all her memories. "I want to be okay."

She sat there staring as the tears dried. She didn't try to turn around again. Still though, she had promised Leo that she would speak with the Headmistress, and so that thought gave her the courage to raise her wand in her shaking hand and send a patronus. The wolf bounded out of her wand and then turned and leapt over her head through the gate, and as much as she loved to watch the patronuses run whenever she could, this time she kept her gaze firmly fixed on the road.

Lavender did manage to stand up before the Headmistress opened the gates behind her. "Miss Brown, what on earth is going on?" Headmistress McGonagall asked.

Lavender sidled out of the way of the gates so McGonagall could let herself out. "I am sorry, Headmistress, for calling on you like this. I have something to talk to you about, but I can't – I can't look at the grounds without remembering things." The Headmistress came to stand in front of her and she ducked her head, trying to banish the shame. "I don't want to remember things."

She heard a light sigh from her old teacher that was full of regret and took a little comfort in that. "I do understand, Miss Brown," the Headmistress said. "What did you come here to speak with me about?"

And so Lavender told her, told her about the demonstration and what she had asked the Ministry for, and how Minister Kingsley had thrown his support behind her idea, told McGonagall about Leo, about his dream to be an Auror and how he needed an education. She told her about Leo's drive and how it broke her heart when she asked what he wanted to do with his life and how he clearly thought that all he ever could be was a werewolf. She told her old professor about how Leo had turned to the black market for Wolfsbane and she didn't know what he had traded in exchange but it couldn't be good, how she was worried and how she was determined to make a difference.

"And all of that starts with an education," Lavender said, staring at the Headmistress so the woman could see how ernest she was about this. "He needs an education, needs to learn how to use magic. He should come here to do that because there is nowhere better. I understand that there are risks but he will take Wolfsbane every week before the full moon, and I have his promise of good behavior. He knows what is at stake, how much pressure there will be on him, how everyone will be waiting for him to fail. I think he knows that better than I do. But he _wants_ this, Professor, you should have seen how his face lit up when I suggested it to him. I want him to attend Hogwarts, and more than that, he wants to come here."

There was a long silence after Lavender finished talking. She listened to the quiet whisper of the wind and tried to calm her pounding heart. She knew she must look a mess from earlier but she hoped her old professor would see past that and know what she meant.

"I will have to speak with the Board of Directors," Headmistress McGonagall said eventually. Lavender's heart leapt into her throat. "I can make no promises, but I do understand what you mean. I would also like to meet this Leo and speak with him myself. May I come by your office tomorrow around four?"

"Absolutely," Lavender agreed instantly. "We'll both be there. Thank you, Professor, thank you so much. I can't tell you what this means to both him and me."

"On the contrary," McGonagall said with a small scrap of a smile. "He will not be the first werewolf to come through these halls. I remember very clearly the look of hope on another's face years ago. Leo would, however, be the first known werewolf to attend Hogwarts, and that may pose some difficulties. I will come to you tomorrow with more details." She started to walk back through the gates and then paused. "And Miss Brown, if you ever need to talk to anyone, know that my doors are always open to you."

"Thank you, Professor – I mean, Headmistress," Lavender said, belatedly realizing that she had been calling the Headmistress 'Professor' instead of her appropriate title.

When she got back to the office there was a strange smell. Someone was here besides just Leo. She entered to find Max, Adeline's son, the full werewolf with the strange green eyes. She felt her step falter slightly as he stared at her before she raised her head and met his gaze. She would not be cowed in her own office. "Thank you, Leo," she said, dismissing her young helper who was clearly uncomfortable around Max. "Why don't you go get something to eat from the dining hall? I think Max wants a private word."

Leo bolted and Lavender took a seat in one of the chairs, gesturing for Max to do the same. He did, eyes never leaving her face. "What can I help you with today?"

"How long do you think this little project will be allowed to go on?"

Lavender stilled. "I don't think I know what you mean."

He laughed shortly, no humor in the sound. "I give it three weeks, until the next full moon and you get short with the wrong person, and then they'll see you're dangerous. That stupid demonstration you thought up didn't prove anything, because they can't force us to take Wolfsbane. What if we just refuse?"

"If you refuse to take Wolfsbane I can't help you," Lavender said. "I want to help people who want help. That is one of the main points of this organization. If there are werewolves who don't want help, I don't know what I can do for them."

"_You_ shouldn't have to do anything for us. We can govern ourselves." All the time he was speaking, his eyes hadn't left hers. She hadn't been challenged this long in what felt like months and it was making her twitchy.

"I agree that we can govern ourselves," she started, before Max cut her off with a very audible snarl.

"I said _us_, not _you_. You're not even a real werewolf. What gives you the right to try and control us?"

"This isn't about control," she returned, careful to keep her voice low and gentle. It helped that she felt ragged from her breakdown earlier – she was already too tired to deal with this. Nevertheless, she couldn't just back down. "This is about integrating werewolves into a society that has neglected them for too long."

"You didn't even think about us before you got your pretty face all torn up," Max snarled, a weird light coming into his eyes.

Lavender's heart started to race, and a nasty suspicion was coming into her mind. "No, I didn't," she agreed. "I was wrong in that. But if I can help others, other witches and wizards who have no idea what werewolves go through – "

He cut her off with another snarl, anger blazing on his face. "Don't even pretend like you understand. You've lived with what you are for barely a year, and I was born like this. Maybe if you had actually transformed, you would have an idea."

"What do you mean by that?" Lavender was now sitting very still, eyes locked onto his in the conviction that if she looked away, he would kill her. "I am not a werewolf, as you have made very clear. I can't transform."

A nasty smile spread across his face and his teeth were bared. Fear ripped through her and she knew he could tell. His nose twitched as he scented the air, proving her right. "Watch your back, princess. You might have pissed off the wrong person." Then he was gone.

Lavender remained seated until she was sure he was gone. Her heart was pounding in her ears and adrenaline was coursing through her, making her hands shake like they had been earlier. This time her terror was from a completely different source though, one she could possibly do something about. With that thought in mind, she stood up slowly and then fell against the wall because her legs were too shaky to hold her up properly.

Once she had a tiny bit more control over herself she walked slowly to the Auror office. It was a few hallways and floors down and she used the walk there to compose herself as much as she was able. Between her breakdown earlier and the encounter with Max she was feeling remarkably done with today and more than once she had to pause and lean against the wall.

She ran into Leo on the way there and grabbed him with perhaps more force than was necessary, ignoring his questions and instead using him as a glorified cane to walk with. She let herself into the Auror office and then grabbed the first Auror she saw, a tall man with silver hair. "I need to speak with Seamus Finnegan," she said, staring at him and trying to put some force behind her words.

He looked down at her with more than a little disgust, then called out, "Finnegan! Another one of your girlfriends is here!" Lavender was still in too much shock to register those words appropriately but Leo's growl at her side told her that it might not have been the nicest thing to say, and something she should probably be angry about later.

Seamus poked his head out from an office, scowl evident on his face. That look faded into one that she couldn't read properly, some blend of confusion and surprise, as he saw her. He walked up slowly, ignoring the looks he was getting from the other Aurors who were around, and also ignoring their quips to him about yet another girlfriend.

"Lavender?" He questioned softly.

She took a bracing breath. "Are you still working on the rogue werewolf case?"

He nodded.

"I have a name for you."


	21. Chapter 21

The Auror office was a flurry of activity after her announcement. Lavender found a chair to sit down in and Leo stood next to her, glaring at every Auror who came up to her. She thought about hushing him but she didn't have the spirit for it. It did make her incredibly fond of him though, for the protection he was trying to offer.

Finally the Aurors turned back to her and asked her to tell them exactly what had happened. She left out the part about just having returned from Hogwarts and her panic attack, but she told them about the rest of the day. How Max had come into her office and fixed her with his stare, how she had tried not to back down but it had ended up feeling like she was staring down a dragon. How he had said some things that made alarm bells start clanging in her head. How he had threatened her.

That part got a flat out snarl from Leo and she finally looked over at him. "It's okay," she reassured him. "Nothing happened."

"But it might," interjected another Auror. "Does he know where you live?"

Lavender shrugged. "Probably not, but he's a werewolf. I could probably track someone and I'm not even a full werewolf – I don't doubt that he could find my flat easily."

"Then you're coming home with me," Neville said, stepping forward. She managed a smile for her old commander and he rested a hand on her shoulder. "He can track you there too, but he'll find more than just you waiting for him if he tries anything."

"I'm coming too," Leo said, fixing Neville with a fierce look. "I can smell him coming if he tries to hurt her."

"I wouldn't dream of stopping you," Neville replied after a moment. "Are we done here?" He asked after that, looking around the office with a raised eyebrow that reminded Lavender of when he would be running DA meetings and not really asking a question, but rather demanding the response he wanted.

Neville led her out of the Ministry after that, apparating to his and Hannah's place while Lavender side-along'd Leo. When she appeared Neville already had the door open and was ushering them inside. "Hannah is working late tonight, but I'm happy to fix dinner if you all would like to eat."

After the trauma of today the last thing Lavender wanted was food, but Leo accepted happily. Neville set to clanking around in the kitchen while Lavender sat on the couch and sipped at a mug of tea. "Oh," she said to Leo. "I forgot to tell you. We're meeting with the Headmistress tomorrow to discuss the terms of your enrollment to Hogwarts. She wants to meet you, so be on your best behavior."

Leo stared at her and then hugged her. Lavender tensed at the sudden contact but then returned the gesture, smiling down at him when he looked up at her with blazing excitement. "Really?" He asked, voice cracking.

"Really," she confirmed. "I told her all about you and she wants to make it work.

"What's this?" Neville asked, leaning against the doorway to the kitchen.

"I'm going to Hogwarts!" Leo yelped, then visibly tried to calm himself. "Lavender talked with the Headmistress today about it."

Neville looked at Lavender with a grin and she shrugged. "I keep telling everyone that was the whole point of the demonstration a few nights ago, but people still just seem to be so shocked. Werewolves need to be integrated, not ostracized. That's how hatred and fear are learned. So I thought that Leo going to Hogwarts would be a good idea, and McGonagall seems to agree." She debated telling Neville about her panic attack but then decided not to with Leo still there. He was just a kid, he didn't need to hear about her losing it in the place he was going to learn in.

"I agree too," Neville said. She would be wondering about his easy acceptance except that she knew he was probably going to be asking questions later. Or maybe he wouldn't. He had stood by her on that hellish day at the Ministry a month ago, defying his orders to take her back to the holding room. Maybe he just had total faith that she knew what she was doing, like she had had faith in him through the nightmare of seventh year.

Lavender ended up on the balcony with a glass of wine around midnight. Leo was passed out on the couch – it seemed he was still working off the effects of their night on the town under the moon. Hannah had come home and Lavender was letting the two greet each other in privacy. They had never been an overtly affectionate couple, but she still felt the need to give them some space. Plus, it was still like a mild punch in the gut to see her schoolmates happy when her relationship had fallen apart, which she thought was unfair of her.

She hadn't seen much of Seamus in the bustle around the Auror office after she had told them about Max. She assumed he was off plotting a capture with his superiors or something equally important. He probably didn't have time to worry about the poor, broken werewolf girl, she thought with a bitter twist of a smile. Maybe nothing changed for him. Maybe he would always be lost to the war, trapped in the battle raging in his head. Maybe there was still hope for them. Probably there wasn't. Definitely she needed more wine.

She poured another glass from the bottle and sipped at it. She was done with him, she decided, looking out across the cool, early spring night. This couldn't keep going on, where she worried and thought about him and he clearly didn't about her. _But he came immediately when he saw you_, some traitorous voice whispered in the back of her mind. "That means nothing," she whispered to herself.

"Nothing means nothing," Hannah's wry and amused voice came from behind her. Lavender half turned to see the witch stepping out from the main room, closing the door gently behind her. "Neville tells me you had quite the day."

All at once, her whole mess of a day came pouring out of her. Hannah, fantastic friend and experienced barmaid she was, didn't say anything, didn't do anything except nod along and make sympathetic noises. Lavender even mentioned her panic attack on the Hogwarts grounds, though she toned it down. She didn't know if Hannah believed her when she said it wasn't that bad, but that didn't really matter.

"Hmm," Hannah said at the end, before bumping Lavender lightly with her shoulder. Lavender stiffened, then relaxed, much like she had done with Leo earlier. Of course, that didn't escape Hannah's notice. "Lavender, when was the last time someone gave you a hug?"

"Earlier today. Leo was happy about Hogwarts," Lavender said, more than a slight touch of defensiveness in her tone.

Hannah ignored that and turned around to catch Lavender in a tight embrace. Lavender hadn't realized that she was still trembling until she felt Hannah's warm arms around her and felt a bit of tension leave her. Then she sighed and willed herself to relax, feeling the tightness leaving her shoulders as she dropped her head down onto her friend's shoulder and breathed in the warm scent of her and bar food and spilled ale and woodsmoke. It was a comforting smell. It reminded Lavender of seventh year before the battle, before they had to hide in their own school, before Seamus's eyes turned hard and before Neville got beaten, back when they were all excited to be causing mischief.

For the second time that day Lavender felt tears well up in her eyes and her throat get rough with threatened sobs. She bit her lip, hard, and felt her fingers tense up. "Shhh," Hannah shushed her. "You can cry. It's okay."

So she did. But rather than the fear-induced panic she had felt earlier, this time she just felt exhausted and sad and lonely, like a normal person when they cried. "I just want to be okay, Hannah," she sobbed. "I want to be able to go to Hogwarts and not freeze in terror. I want to be able to handle being alone and I can't. Every time I see him I miss him. My first thought after being threatened was to go to him. Hell, even earlier I told myself I was done with him and here I am crying again over him..."

"It's okay," Hannah said again. "No one's expecting you to get over him this fast except yourself. You two were nearly inseparable all of last year and it's hard to go from being that close to being alone."

Lavender sniffed, trying not to get snot all over Hannah's shirt. "How do you know that? You and Neville are fine."

Hannah sighed, then Lavender felt her shake her head. "Seamus has been staying with us a lot recently. He doesn't talk to me but he talks to Neville and we don't exactly have a huge place. I'm nosy, and it's easy to overhear." She paused for a second and Lavender desperately wanted to ask her something, but for her own barely-clung-to peace of mind, she didn't. As if Hannah was a mind reader, she answered it anyway. "He misses you. He's too proud to ever ask me to tell you that, just like you're too proud to ask me to tell him you miss him, but he's... he's a little lost. He knows he's messed up. Maybe just keep that in mind."

That brought a whole new wave of tears on, and Lavender resigned herself to the fact that she was drenching Hannah's shirt with both tears and snot, and it was thoroughly unattractive but that didn't matter because she was crying on Hannah and Seamus missed her. Hannah would never judge her and Seamus missed her.

Lavender woke up the next morning in Neville and Hannah's spare bedroom. It smelled vaguely like Seamus; he had clearly stayed here before, probably recently. She walked out quickly, not wanting to linger there and let herself hope. It was quite possible that Hannah had been mistaken. If Seamus missed her he would do something about it. He was the one who left her, after all.

Hannah had fixed them all breakfast, but halfway through Neville got an owl flapping through the window. He read the letter and looked up with a grim smile. "They've been tracking Max while we've been asleep. He's hiding just outside of London right now. They're asking to see if you want to be there when we take him in."

Lavender hesitated for the space of time it took her to take two breaths, then nodded.

"I'm coming too," Leo said instantly.

"No," Lavender shook her head. She talked over his instant complaints. "We don't know how long this is going to take and you have an interview with the Headmistress at four today. Besides, I bet Hannah needs help at the pub, don't you Hannah?"

Hannah, always quick on the uptake, nodded briskly. "My usual server is out sick today," she lied without a flinch. Leo was clearly ready to argue more but Lavender shook her head firmly, quite resolved in her decision.

"I know more about him than you do!" Leo whined. "Everyone knows Max!"

Belatedly, Lavender called herself five different kinds of stupid. Of course Leo would know about Max. He'd been a werewolf for years, far longer than Lavender had been around the werewolves, and _of course_ he would know other things about the man they now faced. "Right," Lavender said, hating herself for her next words. "You come with us to the Ministry and tell us everything you know about Max once we get there. And then you _wait there_ until after he's taken down."

Leo looked triumphant and Lavender knew she had made a bad call, but there was no hope for it. They needed what he knew. She was beyond idiotic for not asking for it before.

Soon enough they all appeared at the Ministry, even Hannah. She refused to let Leo go without a guardian and apparently knew Lavender well enough to know that she was bad at saying no, as evidenced by recent events.

"Alright, listen up," called the lead Auror in charge of the hunt, a man by the name of Auror Braxten. Seamus stood at his side and while Lavender was trying not to look at him, she couldn't help but take in his ready stance and his fiery eyes. He looked like he had been waiting for this chance for months, which, she realized, he absolutely had been. "The target, Max Hartley, is hiding out in a warehouse on the outskirts of London. There are some others with him from the intelligence we have just received – two adults, a man and a woman, and a young man, maybe seventeen years old. All three appear to be werewolves – "

Leo, with a boldness Lavender was growing to expect from him, interrupted. "They're not all werewolves. The adults are Max's parents, Danny and Adeline, and they're not werewolves. The other guy is Svensen."

Auror Braxten fixed Leo with a look that should have made the teenager shrink down, but Leo had faced down werewolves twice his size and Lavender felt a burst of pride for him as he met the man's gaze levelly. "And how would you know any of that, boy?"

"I'm a werewolf and I followed Max's pack for a while," Leo said. That was news to Lavender but she hid her shock for his sake. Many of the Aurors started at that and Lavender glared at them, instantly backing Leo up. He didn't need any judgement from these people. "Max was born a werewolf. His bite doesn't turn humans. So to build his pack, he has to use werewolves who can bite and turn others. This guy who's with him, he's got dark hair? Tanned skin, big scar across his left eye?"

Auror Braxten nodded, looking like he'd just bitten into something nasty.

"That's Svensen," Max continued at that affirmation. "He's been with Max the past year, biting humans for him. He's also the one who's been biting people like Lavender," he added with an apologetic look at her. "People who haven't been turned, but have been bitten. Max considers it a flaw in the plan, so he wanted to go after people like her."

"What's this 'plan?'" Neville asked Leo.

Leo shrugged. "Werewolf supremacy or something equally stupid. I just followed him because he made me feel safe." He looked at Lavender again, this time with a little worry, and she mustered a smile for him. She knew what it felt like to want to be safe.

"Fine," Auror Braxten said through gritted teeth. "Take down Max Hartley and this Svensen. Don't harm the parents if at all possible."

"Leave Svensen to me," Lavender volunteered. She almost took it back but then she saw Leo's hopeful look. This is what they were working towards. "Maybe he doesn't know exactly what he's doing. Maybe he's just scared too. Let me talk to him."

"You are in no position to give orders here," Braxten said, growling a little in a challenge that made Lavender's wolf growl as well.

"On the contrary," Lavender said firmly, staring the man down. "I am the head of Inhuman Resources here at the Ministry and it is my prerogative to tackle situations exactly like this one. You _will_ let me speak with him and you _will_ listen to my advice on the matter regarding what to do with him. That is my job and if you have a problem with it, you may complain to the Minister of Magic, but other than that you will adhere to what I say."

In their staring contest, he was the first to look away and Lavender raised her chin proudly. She would not be cowed by this man, no matter how dire the situation. Also, she had gotten away with calling it Inhuman Resources. He wasn't going to win this one. "Fine," he said, clearly upset at having to let both the parents and the accomplice go, "subdue Max Hartley. Adeline and Danny Hartley and Svensen go with Miss Brown."

"Leo, stay with Hannah," Lavender ordered as the Aurors prepared to move out.

"But – "

"Please," she asked him, staring at him without a challenge. "I need to know you're safe. I know you've handled him before and no one doubts your courage, but I need to know you're safe."

He seemed to be fighting an internal war, then he sighed and nodded once. "Fine. I'll stay _safe_." He spat the last word out.

She leaned forward impulsively and kissed him on the forehead. "Thank you. I'll be back. If I'm not back by four, please meet with the Headmistress yourself." He growled at her good-naturedly as a light blush spread over his face, making her smile. Hannah dragged Leo away and Lavender looked at her with gratitude.

"Hey," a voice on her right said. She whipped around to meet eyes with Seamus. Her heart leapt into her throat against her will and she turned slightly, bringing her body more in line with his. He coughed and looked away, then said, "Be careful."

"When am I not?" she replied, the sass coming to her lips out of sheer habit. "You be careful too." That was said much more heartfelt, though she was still finding it hard to breathe. If Hannah was correct, Seamus still missed her. Maybe not as much as she missed him, but also maybe more than she missed him, and wasn't that an absolutely terrifying thought?

A shadow of a smile danced across his face. "I'm always careful."

"Well that's hardly true," she responded. "I seem to recall lots of healing salve and ripped up bedsheets to patch you back together."

"The bedsheets were always the best part," he said, smile stronger now. His eyes met hers again and she almost got lost in them, his light brown-hazel meeting her dark brown.

That startled a laugh out of her, and it only took a few seconds before he was laughing too. She ducked her head down coyly like it was old times and felt the shiver that his laugh always induced in her race up and down her spine. Suddenly bold (they were going to face a werewolf who had threatened her after all, who had tried to make more werewolves, who was a menace, if this wasn't the time for boldness there was never going to be a time for it), she smiled at him and asked, "Do you want to go get a drink after all of this is done?"

"Yeah," he replied in an instant. The relief was so apparent in his voice that it almost hurt to hear. "Yeah, I would."


	22. Chapter 22

Two hours later Lavender sat in the waiting room of St. Mungo's, tearing a tissue to shreds. Hannah was next to her, apologizing over and over again. Lavender couldn't hear her through her worry. The Auror's plan had been good, everything had been set to go – and then it had turned awful.

Apparently not wanting to see their son taken by the Aurors despite joining Lavender in front of the Ministry nights before, Adeline and Danny had picked a fight. The Aurors hadn't been expecting that, not after Leo had told them that they weren't werewolves. Adeline had managed to tackle one of the Aurors and steal his wand and had turned out to be a remarkably competent spellcaster and had tied up more people than Lavender would have thought possibly. Danny, meanwhile, had jumped on another Auror and started punching him. That man was in the hospital now too.

Of all their opponents, Svensen had seemed to be the least of their concerns. That had also turned the plan on its head, because Braxten had expected the werewolf to fight. But the young werewolf had just seemed exhausted and confused when the Aurors shot chains over him.

The chains had been what made Lavender step forward. Chains on Svensen hadn't been a part of the plan that she had agreed to. But that step forward had drawn Max's attention to her, and the terrible snarl that had ripped from his throat had made her freeze. Even the wolf in the back of her mind had cowered down, unable to fight that primal sound. "You betrayed us!" Max had snarled.

She looked at him like a deer in the wandlight as he charged at her. He looked more wolfish than any human had a right to, or any werewolf had a right to outside of the full moon. But those were definitely claws on his hands and elongated teeth, a lengthening muzzle – Lavender had screamed as he leapt at her, seeing Fenrir Greyback in his face.

And then, out of nowhere, a small figure had crashed into Max and send him rolling. Terrible snarls and yelps started coming from the tangle of human and wolf on the ground, and when Lavender heard her name being screamed it snapped her out of her fear and shock. She, along with two other Aurors, started sending stunners at the fight, unable to tell who they were hitting. Finally, when they had gotten enough spells in that the fight was still, Seamus had waded in and pulled the fighters apart, grabbing Max by the scruff as the now half-wolf man twitched limply. But Lavender only had eyes for the young, scruffy-haired boy who was laying still and bloody on the ground.

"Leo!" She had screamed, throwing herself on the ground next to him. "_Ennervate_, oh Merlin, Leo, please wake up." He had stirred gently at the spell, a slight sigh escaping him, and she had suddenly become conscious of the massive amounts of blood around him and on his clothes. "Somebody help!" She screamed, looking around in desperation at the Aurors.

After the shock of the last few seconds, the Aurors had remembered their training. Maybe they just weren't used to dealing with rogue werewolves and their parents, but Lavender intended to have a strong word with the Head of the Auror Department. An insane werewolf should never be able to get the drop on the pride of the Auror department, of that Lavender was sure. Finally, two with field medical training stepped forward and started tending to Leo, murmuring spells to stop the bleeding and replace the blood. "He needs St. Mungo's," the female Auror of the pair said after a minute. "He's safe to move, but he needs a Healer."

The male Auror of the pair had nodded agreement and then swept Leo up into his arms, turning on the spot to vanish with a crack. Lavender had stared where they had vanished and Hannah came racing up to her, apologies already flowing from her lips. "He said he forgot to tell you something so I told him he could tell me and I would go, and then when I turned to apparate he grabbed my arm and side-along'd himself. I'm so sorry, I would never have done it except I thought it was important that you know that Max could turn outside of the full moon, I'm so sorry Lavender!"

"I need to go to St. Mungo's," Lavender had said numbly.

"I'll take you," Hannah had offered instantly, seeing that her friend was clearly incapable of apparating herself right then.

And so now they were here, waiting for news. Lavender had filled out paperwork that Hannah brought her, listing herself as Leo's sister and guardian so there wasn't any confusion. There had been the start of a stink when it came out that Leo was a werewolf, but Lavender had fixed the head Healer with such a look that the man gulped and backed down. His bite was only dangerous on the full moon, she had reminded them quietly, and if there was any issue she was happy to take it up with the Minister. She needed to stop name dropping, she knew, but until Inhuman Resources got up and running and had a reputation of its own, that was what she had to do. After ensuring that Leo would be cared for as would any human, she resumed her seat and stared fixedly at the wall, seeing nothing and only thinking _please please please be okay_.

About an hour into their wait, Neville had brought news that Danny and Adeline and Max and Svensen were all being held at the Ministry, the first three in the holding cells for Azkaban, and Svensen in the werewolf cages. That had stirred Lavender a bit from her stuporand she fixed Neville with a burning look.

"Not there," she demanded. "Those places reek of filth and fear. Take him... take him anywhere else. Even put him in the Azkaban cages. But not the werewolf ones." Neville nodded at that and then left again, letting Lavender slip back into her mantra of _please please please be okay_. She tore another tissue into tiny pieces, damp sweat on her shaking hands making the tissue wet.

She remembered something suddenly and turned to Hannah slightly. "Can you," she coughed. Her voice was raw. "Can you go to my office? McGonagall is supposed to be meeting Leo there soon. I don't want her to be offended that we're not there. I'd send a patronus but there's probably too much to tell for one of those."

"Of course," Hannah said instantly, squeezing Lavender's shoulder as she left.

It felt like Hannah had only been gone for a moment before she heard raised voices. "Sir, this area is for family only - " a harried sounding Healer said.

"You want to move now," growled a familiar Irish brogue. Lavender lifted her head at the sound of it. "If you don't get out of the way I'll hex you."

She rose halfway out of her chair as Seamus pushed his way into the waiting room, eyes raking the room until he saw her. "Oh Merlin, Lav, are you okay?" He asked, suddenly in front of her.

"Yes," she said, stunned that he was here. "Leo - they haven't told me anything about him."

Seamus's hand reach up and touched her cheek as if to reassure himself that she was really fine and then he walked away, off down a different hallway than the one he came through half a moment ago. She dimly heard quiet words and then some shouting, and then more quiet words until he came back. He stood in front of her again and she stared at him, desperate for answers. "He's still being worked on," he said. "But they say he's going to make it."

Lavender took a shaking breath that was more of a sob. Tentatively, like he was worried about frightening a scared wild animal, he held out his arms to her. She collapsed into them, letting him comfort her for the first time in months, letting his soothing smell surround her, letting him murmur reassurances in her ear until she got a hold of herself. She pulled away reluctantly, sniffling. "Thank you," she whispered with a watery smile up at him. He returned it hesitantly before digging in his pocket and finding a handkerchief. It was so unlike him that she laughed a little. He had never had handkerchiefs on him before. "Learning some good habits?" She asked.

He shrugged. "I know you well enough to know you cry when someone comforts you. I figured it would be good to have."

She blinked at him, realizing something. "Aren't you supposed to be at work?"

Another shrug. He looked away and then back at her, eyes filled with some strange emotion that she couldn't read. "I needed to know you were okay."

"I'm fine, thanks to Leo."

To her surprise, he let out a breath of laughter. "We're all kicking ourselves about the fact that a fourteen year old is faster at protecting civilians than we are. If he ever wants to come be an Auror, have him talk to the Head."

"That's exactly what he wants," Lavender said. "I'll let him know when he wakes up." She still couldn't believe that he had come away from work for her, not while knowing that that was what had broken them up before. "Aren't you going to get in trouble for leaving?"

"It's worth it if I do. I got away as soon as I could, when we were doing the paperwork for the arrest. I'm just sorry i wasn't here sooner. You're... you're worth a lot more to me than some job." He raised his hand again like he was going to caress her cheek before making a fist down at his side and looking away. "Let's get that drink soon. I really need to talk to you."

Suddenly breathless, Lavender nodded. "I'd like that," she whispered, making a fist of her own in an effort not to touch him.

A Healer came through the doors and broke the moment. "Miss Brown? Your brother is going to be fine."

Lavender couldn't help it – she started crying again. She had already known Leo was going to be okay because Seamus had told her so, but it was so relieving to have the official word. Despite only knowing her for a few days, that tough kid had bonded strongly enough with her that he had no issues jumping in front of a werewolf to save her life. Maybe it was a werewolf thing to show fierce loyalty to people who help you. Maybe it was a Leo thing. She said a quick goodbye to Seamus, thinking quietly that this Healer had flawless timing to stop her from doing something she might regret later, and the Healer took her in to see the young werewolf. The first thing she said when he grinned sleepily at her was, "You saved my life. You're going to make the world's best Gryffindor."

He tried to sit up and she pushed him back down gently. "I need to see the Headmistress," he said.

"She'll understand why you can't today," Lavender reassured him. "I asked Hannah to tell her what was going on so she wouldn't be confused. We can talk to her later."

"No," Leo insisted. "You said we would talk to her today. I want to talk to her."

"Leo, I don't think – "

"No," he growled, staring at her. "We said today."

Looking at him, Lavender couldn't help the tiny smile that crossed her face. He was resilient to a fault, another thing that would serve him well at Hogwarts. She raised her wand and sent a patronus, the wolf bounding out the window instantly. Leo's eyes were wide and he breathed, "Can I learn how to do that? What _was_ that?"

"It's pretty advanced magic, but I'll be happy to teach you once you have a wand. It's a patronus, usually used to repel dementors but Dumbledore discovered how to use them for lots of other things, including sending short messages. That one is taking a message to the Headmistress, saying that you want to speak with her if she is still free."

They chatted for a few minutes, Leo looking much more alert than she was expecting him to. The news about becoming an Auror had him almost glowing with pride. He gave her an exasperated look when she commented on his perkiness. "I'm a werewolf, Lavender. You think this is the worst I've ever been chewed up? After all the healing spells and blood replenishing potions those Healers gave me, I feel fine. If I could have this and Wolfsbane all the time, I'd be much more functional after the full moons."

"You haven't been to the hospital after the full moons?" She asked him, frowning.

He shrugged. "After I was first attacked, sure. Then Mum and Dad decided the basement was the best place for me to live for about a week out of every month while I healed after the full moon, and then they threw me out. It's not like I've had the money for a hospital." He said it carelessly but she could tell the memories still stung.

She moved to put a hand on his shoulder and a knock sounded at the door. "Come in," he called, giving her a reassuring smile that was somewhat marred by the claw marks on his face.

The door opened and Headmistress McGonagall stepped through. Her eyes widened slightly when she saw the battered boy in the hospital bed, but Lavender was impressed and grateful at how quickly she smoothed her expression. "So you are Leo, then," she said with a nod. "I am Headmistress McGonagall of Hogwarts. Miss Brown tells me you want to attend my school, and she gave you a glowing recommendation."

"I've never wanted anything so much in my life," Leo said. "Not even being human again. I promise to be totally harmless during every full moon – I'll take Wolfsbane – I'll hide in the dungeons – I'll chain myself to the walls if that's what it takes for people to feel safe. Only please let me go."

If the Headmistress was surprised by his vehemence, she did a good job not showing it. "Wolfsbane alone should suffice. I don't think we have need of any drastic measures, Mr... what is your last name?"

"Marinos. My full name is Leonidas Marinos." That was a surprise. Lavender looked at him with a raised eyebrow and he shrugged. "Grandpa was Greek."

"I will tell you now, you will be placed with the first years. It may be strange for you to be in class with children a few years younger than you."

"What if I'm really good?" Leo asked, determination in his voice and eyes. "What if I learn spells and potions and things past my year? Could I move up?"

"The coursework is very difficult. You are not the first with aspirations to pass through Hogwarts more quickly."

"But what if I _do_?" Leo pressed.

Headmistress McGonagall fixed him with a strange look and Lavender could have sworn a slight smile passed over her face. "Then we shall see. Mr. Marinos, please look for your letter by owl in mid-July. We look forward to having you at Hogwarts." As a huge smile spread across Leo's face, the Headmistress looked at Lavender. "Miss Brown, may I have a word in the hall?"

Lavender nodded. "I'll be back in a bit, Leo. Get some sleep." He didn't look like he was going to sleep for at least the next week but he agreed.

They stepped out into the hallway and McGonagall led her to the small tea shop. They sat down, each with a steaming cup in front of them, and Lavender watched her old teacher with some confusion. "Is all that true?" McGonagall asked finally. "That he was kept in the basement, that he hasn't been to the hospital since he was first attacked? I was standing outside the door as you were asking him about it," she explained. "And I didn't want to interrupt."

Lavender nodded. "I suspect it's all true. Truthfully I just met Leo about a week ago, a few nights before the demonstration we did at the Ministry. He hasn't told me much about his history but I do know that he was thrown out of his house some years back, when his parents didn't want to deal with the werewolf side of their son any more. From what I know of werewolves, that's a fairly common story." She paused, then asked, "Did you mean it? Will he really be getting his letter in July?"

McGonagall nodded. "It is past time Hogwarts is made open to all. We preach acceptance and tolerance, especially so soon after the war, but now we need to start acting on that talk. He will have a hard time of it, but anyone that is willing to jump in front of a werewolf to save another is someone who will always have a place at Hogwarts."

"Thank you, Headmistress," Lavender said, trying to put all her emotions into the words.

"Are you his official guardian?" McGonagall asked.

The question made Lavender pause. "I... I don't know. I put myself down as his sister for St. Mungo's. Are you going to need parental permission for anything? I don't want to have him deal with his parents."

"I agree, absolutely no talking to his parents," McGonagall affirmed, anger clear in her voice. "If it is amenable to you, I will put myself down as his guardian. It has been done before, with orphans who have come to Hogwarts. If necessary he can remain at the school over the summer and for winter and spring break, but I will of course release him to you during those times if he wants to visit."

"Actually, Headmistress," Lavender interjected. "Could he be made a ward of Inhuman Resources? I think he'd like that better, since he is a werewolf and we're an organization for werewolves."

"I shall take it up with the Board," the headmistress agreed after a few moments of thought. They finished their tea quietly and the headmistress excused herself soon after. She promised to write with more details closer to the start of the school year, and she reminded Lavender again to turn to her if she needed anything.

Lavender sat in the tea shop for a while longer, just thinking. She owed Leo her life, most likely, and she certainly owed him her sanity. Three werewolves jumping at her face in less than a year, one of which had savaged her brutally, one of which brought back all the memories, and one of which was actively trying to kill her, seemed to be far too many werewolves jumping at her face in less than a year. She was clearly not over her first attack, judging from the way she had frozen. The second attack had been different because it had been an actual wolf. Animals were different than people, and seeing a half-wolf, half-man _thing_ running at her, bent on destroying her, was a lot more scary than a wolf.

What if there were others like him, others that would violently oppose her organization? What would she do if there was opposition from the community she was supposed to be helping? But then she thought about the look on Leo's face when McGonagall said he was going to Hogwarts and smiled. At least there was one who she helped.

And then there was the whole Seamus thing. The fact that he had come to visit her in the hospital gave her so much hope she felt like she would burst from it. He had been here to reassure himself that she was okay. When confronted with her distraught self, he had found out the news that had calmed her down and then let her cry on him. It felt like seventh year again, like the best parts of that year. It felt like when he would wake her up from nightmares and hold her close and tell her that he loved her, that nothing was ever going to hurt her again. It felt like trust and new beginnings and it was enough to make her giddy. Or maybe that was just the lack of sleep and the excitement of the day.

She stood up, joints creaking from disuse and exhaustion, and walked back to Leo's room. She would deal with Seamus later, maybe a few days from now. Maybe tomorrow. She took a seat in the armchair in the corner of his room and rested her head on her hand, watching the young werewolf breath peacefully as she dozed off. Hope and trust were the best feelings.

They checked Leo out the next day. She took Leo back to her house and insisted he rest on the couch, despite his protests. He had protested the hospital food so she made him a massive breakfast and he thanked her for it by eating everything put in front of him. "Thank you," she said again once he was done. "You could have been killed."

Leo shrugged, every inch of him an awkward teenage boy. "You looked so scared. And you've been nice to me, and you've been so happy about Inhuman Resources. Max doesn't get to take that away."

"Take what away?"

Leo flushed, toying with his fork. "Someone who has put her neck on the line for me and done things for me when I don't deserve them. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, as stupid as that sounds. And you looked terrified and none of those stupid Aurors were doing anything about it. Maybe you don't matter to them, but you matter to us. That night at the Ministry... you made a lot of friends that night, even if you don't know it. We saw someone who was willing to stand up for us when we were too beaten down to do it ourselves. You gave us hope. We're not about to let you die, especially by one of us who's gone crazy."

Touched, Lavender looked away. He was clearly embarrassed by his speech and she didn't need to make him bare more of his soul. But it was nice to know her efforts were appreciated. More than nice. It was amazing. "So," she asked in an attempt to break the heaviness of the moment. "I think you'd be an amazing Gryffindor, but if you got to pick, which House would you go into?"

Leo started talking immediately, now waving his fork around for emphasis. Lavender listened to him happily, thankful he was okay and thankful she was too.


	23. Chapter 23

The moon waned slowly and Lavender was kept busy with her new work. Leo had spread the word around and new werewolves were coming every day seeking help integrating themselves into society, or those werewolves who had specific goals. Her current task was to set up some form of education for the older werewolves for whom Hogwarts wasn't going to be an option. She had a meeting set up with Headmistress McGonagall three days from then to discuss options for that form of education.

Her first task had been to hire a dedicated potion maker. Lavender had discovered herself to be fairly competent with potion making during the seventh year when they had needed healing potions brewed up but Wolfsbane was a lengthy and complicated process and she was far too busy with the rest of Inhuman Resources to mess around with it. The girl she had hired was a St. Mungo's flunkee, as she had stated proudly in her application, only because potions were far more interesting than people. They had gotten along well and Lavender had helped the girl, whose name was Mancy and who was a few years older than Lavender herself, set up a decent potion lab in an empty warehouse off Diagon Alley. For now the warehouse was also serving as a temporary shelter for werewolves who had come seeking a place to stay. Thankfully, Mancy had nerves of steel, which Lavender had been looking for. She had made no secrets that the job would be working in very close proximity with werewolves, and Mancy had risen to the task admirably.

There were more werewolves who had come forward, around Leo's age and younger, who wanted to attend Hogwarts. She was tempted to put them with Leo so they would all have support, but McGonagall had talked her out of that. It was hard enough for the Board and the Ministry, to say nothing of the parents, to accept one werewolf who Lavender proclaimed a life-saving hero. More than one, at least for the first year, would be too much for the authorities to handle. Instead, Lavender had plans for a younger version of the adult's school, a place for the kids to play catch up so they could enter Hogwarts with others their age. It was another thing to talk with the Headmistress about.

Meanwhile, she had put Leo in charge of the Youth Outreach program that she was making up as she went along. First on her list was to get the kids off the streets and away from the set in their ways old werewolves who wanted to recruit them for packs. That was mostly what the warehouse was being used for until she could figure out something more permanent. Leo was staying there at nights, building up relationships with the young werewolves and boasting about how he was going to go to Hogwarts. Lavender would have called him out on the boasting except then she overheard him talking to one little girl, who couldn't have been more than eight years old, about how he was going to make sure it was safe for her to go, to make sure that no one was going to be mean to her, and that conversation had put a smile on her face all day.

Leo had turned into much more of a leader than she had been expecting, but it had been a wonderful surprise. Today, in fact, he had plans to get everyone together for a family dinner, as he was calling it, at the warehouse. Lavender was excited to go, but first she had to finish her paperwork. It seemed that all she was doing was paperwork and she had already thought more than once about hiring a secretary to push some of it off onto. Much of it was grant applications and letters to wealthy families she thought might want to donate. Despite how frugal she was trying to be, Inhuman Resources was burning through the galleons, and she knew that if they relied fully on government funding they wouldn't be able to help half the werewolves that came through their doors.

And also before the dinner, she had a date.

Well, she amended hastily in her mind, it wasn't _really_ a date. It was the drinks that she and Seamus had agreed on. Lavender had insisted on coffee rather than alcohol, remembering the last time she had been intoxicated around Seamus. She was resolute that she was not bringing him home with her, no matter how much of a kicked puppy act he put on. She reaffirmed that to herself. He was _not_ coming home with her, and she was _not_ going home with him. There was too much at stake for that, if they ever had hopes of having a relationship again. And despite how much she denied it out loud in the mirror, she did want a relationship with him again. She missed him. He missed her, according to Hannah. They had been through so much together, it seemed stupid that their relationship had ended like it did. They had weathered You-Know-Who. They could get past this.

It felt like old times as she brushed mascara over her eyelashes, getting ready in front of her mirror. It was just coffee, she reminded herself, no need to go overboard with the makeup. She kept her hair loosely tied back and falling over her shoulder in golden waves. Wearing a simple light blue camisole under a white tee shirt with a low neckline and jeans, she resolved to be the picture of meeting with a friend for coffee.

She realized suddenly, looking in the mirror, that she hadn't worried about her scars in weeks except to coat them with the salve she used to help them heal. If she looked at her face critically, the scars were still very present and she didn't doubt that people were still staring. But she hadn't _noticed_ them staring, and that was wonderful. It was better than wonderful, she thought with a smile. It meant that she was the best she had been, mentally, since her attack. She was recovering. She was perfect. The smile that crossed her face made her practically glow with pride and she tossed her hair back, flashing a winning grin at herself in the mirror. Time to go meet Seamus.

She tucked her wand into her purse and made sure she had money before she left, stepping out the door into the warm spring afternoon. The sun felt good on her skin and she turned her face up to it as she walked, not noticing the small, excited smile that was on her face as she walked to the coffee shop they had agreed on.

Seamus was waiting for her outside when she showed up, and she felt her heart thump and speed up as she walked over to him. He was in a light cotton button down shirt and jeans, robe open casually and flapping in the gentle breeze. "Hi," she greeted.

"Hey," he smiled back, holding the door open for her. Lavender walked into the shop and took a seat at a table near the window. She left the seat with its back in the corner for him to take – she knew it made him nervous to have his back exposed. She didn't much like it either, but she was trying to learn to rationalize her fears. She could sit with her back to the door. It was okay.

The waitress took their orders and Lavender stared out the window while they waited, trying not to stare at his reflection. He looked... good. Casual. Carefree but just a little bit nervous, which made her tuck away a grin. Much better than the last time she had seen him, when he was sleep-deprived and worried and overworked. "Has the office calmed down since Max was dealt with?" She asked, trying to break the awkward silence.

Seamus nodded. "A bit, yeah. I mean, it's never going to be a quiet job, but it's always nice when a big case gets wrapped up. What about you? I know your department is new, but I've been hearing a lot about it the past few days."

Lavender smiled. "It's been a whirlwind, honestly. Leo got the word out with the young werewolves and now we have about ten staying in a warehouse while I try to find better accommodation for them. I hired a Wolfsbane maker with a mouth on her sassy enough to keep even the teenage boys in line. Adults are coming forward too – everyone wants an education and a wand. I have no idea how we're going to handle all of that, but I have a meeting with Professor McGonagall soon about it." She chatted at him a while longer about all the things that were happening. He asked good questions that made her think about the answers and soon they were caught up in how to fundraise, because her money problems were very present in her mind.

"I was thinking some kind of dinner party or something," Lavender mused. "Only I'm not sure. I have no experience with any of those kinds of things."

"What about a dance?" Seamus asked. "You planned a great Christmas party for the DA in seventh year. Why not something like that?"

"That was just for us, though," Lavender demurred. "I need to somehow attract rich people to donate lots of money."

"Or attract a lot of regular people who can donate small amounts of money," Seamus suggested. "I think you planned a great dance party. Just keep it in mind."

She smiled at him, happy that he was trying to help. "I will, absolutely."

They fell into silence again before Seamus cleared his throat and set down his cup of coffee. "Okay. I need to say something. I've needed to say it for a while, but I've been putting it off because... well, because I have been."

Lavender swallowed, suddenly nervous. She knew what she hoped he would say, but he would still have to say it right. She was a lot more wary now, a lot more cautious, and she wasn't ready to go diving off a cliff with him like she used to be. That said, she still missed him. Even this, just chatting about work and how to solve various problems, was like a breath of warmth after a long time in the cold.

"I messed up," he started, voice quiet. "I got so caught up in my job that I didn't see how it was hurting you. And it didn't matter how many times you told me. Maybe I just didn't want to see it, because I was so wrapped up in trying to protect you I didn't want to stop and think about what I was actually doing. But then, after everything ended and I left, I spent a lot of time and Neville and Hannah's place. They're so damn happy. He takes time off to be with her and she takes time off to be with him, and they're so happy together."

Seamus stopped and sighed, passing a hand over his face before meeting her eyes directly. She had been right to plan to guard against the kicked puppy look – though he looked like he had been kicking himself rather than someone else kicking him. "I'm so sorry, Lavender. I never meant to hurt you, never wanted to hurt you. I don't expect you to forgive me but I do just need you to know how sorry I am. And I'd like you in my life, even if we're not together. Even if it's just coffee once a week and all we talk about is work."

Lavender was silent for a while. It was clear that he had been practicing that speech for a while. Between his apologies and his earnestness it was beyond tempting to just forgive him immediately, to welcome him back with open arms. If she hadn't resolved so strongly before she headed out to not do exactly that, she would have leaned across the table and kissed him right then and there. "Let's try friends first," she offered eventually. Against her better judgement she flashed him a smile and added, "And then we'll see."

It made her heart ache to see how much that last part made him light up, but she hardened her resolve. She had to be sure he wasn't going to run out on her again. "I'm always going to hold out hope," he warned with a roguish grin that made her heart beat wildly. "Unless you tell me no, there's always going to be a part of me that wants you back. So tell me no if you want to, but until then, I'm hoping."

That made her think for another few long moments. She wanted him to hope in her. She desperately wanted to hope in him. Still, it was more than a little nerve-wracking to think about. He had hurt her last time and she didn't ever want to go through that again. She was silent long enough for his grin to start fading. "I'd never tell you no to that," she said finally. "But it's going to be a long while before I can trust you again."

"Completely understandable," he said instantly. He was looking at her with enough determination to make her heart sing. "And for you, Lav, I'll wait until I die."

A smile crept slowly across Lavender's face as they looked at each other, mirroring the one on his. It felt like the spring air outside, light and warm and promising. It felt like new beginnings and hope.


	24. Chapter 24

September 1st arrived with blue skies and a light wind that tangled Lavender's hair and brought color to her cheeks. When she entered the Den, as Leo had taken to calling Inhuman Resources' warehouse space for homeless werewolves, Leo practically pounced on her. "Are you ready? I'm ready!" He said, dragging his truck around and scuffing up the floors.

"Calm down," Lavender laughed. "Are you all packed? Do you need anything else?"

"I've been packed for weeks!" He said, eyes bright and excited. She couldn't help but grin at his enthusiasm.

"Alright, then say goodbye to everyone and we'll go to the station." Lavender leaned up against the wall while Leo ran around saying goodbye to all his friends at the Den, swearing to write with updates when he got there and promising to come home for the full moon with stories. Lavender, meanwhile, shrunk down his truck and stowed it in his jacket pocket, picking up his jacket from the floor where he had dumped it.

Within a few minutes he was ready to go and she passed him his jacket, telling him about the trunk inside of it. He barely seemed to notice, too intent on looking over his train ticket with wide eyes and twirling his wand.

She had refused to teach him spells, not wanting to step on any toes with his teachers. It was also technically illegal, she supposed, but she thought she could get away with it at the Den, where there were so many underage witches and wizards. Leo had actually run into a few walls the day he got his wand and other school supplies.

He had been like a bull in the china shop when confronted with all the different potion supplies. He had eagerly started reading his schoolbooks in the bookshop rather than wait for Lavender to finish paying for them. And rather than Madame Malkin's, Lavender had taken him to her old workplace, where Brenda had welcomed her with a hug. Being fired was still a sting, but after Brenda had fit Leo for his robes (sticking him with the needle and pins more than once because he wouldn't quit jumping from excitement) she had demanded that Lavender bring all her young wards to her for their robes. Times were changing, Brenda declared, and if her regular customers didn't like seeing werewolves in her shop, they could find a new shop. Quietly, Brenda also apologized for firing her, and Lavender could hear the real guilt in her voice.

They had also gotten Leo an owl so he could write regular updates. Probably sensing werewolf, most of the animals in the pet shop had panicked when Leo walked in. Some of the owls had been calm enough to approach, but one, a massive eagle own with dark grey feathers, had fixed Lavender's young friend with a look and then quietly stepped onto his offered arm. It had fluttered its wings (which were nearly six feet wide when spread) and then settled, content. Leo had fallen in love instantly and named the owl Storm.

Finally, they had gone to get his wand. Entering Ollivander's shop was the only time Leo had been subdued all day, and when the willow and unicorn hair wand had spat sparks from its tip at the touch of his hand, Lavender could have sworn she had seen tears in his eyes. She could also see he was thrilled at having a unicorn wand – they were supposed to be the most loyal, and the least easy to turn to Dark magics. She could tell having a wand that was pre-programmed for good things took a weight off of him.

He had paraded around with his wand and owl and schoolbooks for the next few weeks. Lavender had forbidden him from attempting magic so instead he learned wand tricks, ways to spin it across the back of his fingers and flip it from hand to hand. She had laughed the first time he had done it, but after a few weeks of solid practice she could admit it was impressive. He was remarkably dexterous and she was wondering if he had aspirations to join the Quidditch teams in a few years.

Though, she mused privately, where the money for a broom would come from she had no idea. She was at her wit's end trying to keep everything afloat, especially since that now that the werewolves had regular access to Wolfsbane, the stress of the full moons had gone down substantially. Last full moon, a week ago, Lavender had simply just read on the couch at the Den while the wolves napped around her, all subdued by the potion. She had locked the doors of course, to prevent anyone from slipping out, but it had been a peaceful night and she had been so pleased. She couldn't take that away from them now that it was what they expected.

Lavender guessed that Inhuman Resources was probably providing Wolfsbane for around sixty werewolves, including her fourteen young wards at the Den. Most were adults who she didn't interact with beyond listing them as beneficiaries of the Wolfsbane, but some were in the adult education program Lavender was still struggling to lift off the ground. There was hardly money for that either.

Lost in her thoughts, Lavender only realized where she was when they came to Kings Cross station. A sudden lump in her throat happened as she remembered the last time she was here – coming back from spring break in her seventh year, knowing she might be dead in just weeks, never planning to see Kings Cross or the Hogwarts express again. Leo was too excited to give her a moment though, and her young charge dashed through the station, Storm hooting irritably in his cage as he was swung around.

"Lavender, _come on_!" Leo yelped.

Shaking her thoughts aside gratefully, she followed Leo briskly. "This way," she said, pointing at the wall between platforms nine and ten. With a wild smile, Leo charged at the barrier at full speed, leaving Lavender laughing helplessly in his wake.

When she went through the barrier, steam engulfed her and she breathed in the familiar smell of the train and the platform. Leo was standing stock still, eyes wide and staring all around him. She nudged him with her elbow to snap him out of it. "You're here," she said. "This is happening." He seemed lost for words.

An interruption came in the form of Seamus, who walked up to them out of the steam. An unconscious smile spread across Lavender's face as she took in the sight of him in his green Auror robes. Fit as ever (she scolded her racing heart), he cut an impressive figure as he came to see off Leo.

After they had talked over coffee the first time, Lavender and Seamus had started up a pattern of meeting up once a week to talk about work and their lives. Seamus had also been impressed by the plucky young werewolf who had saved Lavender. Leo, after a few growls at the man he thought had hurt Lavender, eventually accepted him, and Seamus had come to the Den a few times, joining the young werewolves and Lavender and Mancy for Leo's family dinners.

Lavender was glad he was here. Leo admired Seamus, though not quite with the hero-worship he had developed for Lavender after she had gotten him accepted to Hogwarts. Still, he and Seamus talked about the Aurors quite often and Lavender also loved the idea that Seamus was helping teach the werewolves at the Den that Aurors weren't to be feared. There was still a lot of healing to be done with her charges but having an Auror around was certainly helping bridge the gaps already.

"Seamus!" Leo yelped.

"You're excited, then?" Seamus asked, grinning at the young werewolf.

"Yes!"

Lavender couldn't help another giggle at exactly how excited Leo was, and Seamus met her eyes with his own happy look. "Hi," she said, momentarily caught by his bright blue eyes. Meeting with him had not been good for her emotions, at least when it came to trying to put aside her excitable teenage self.

"Hey," he greeted her back. He looked away first, back to Leo. "If anyone is nasty to you, let me know."

"I can protect myself," Leo said, rolling his eyes.

"Nah, I know," grinned Seamus. "But I know some wicked hexes in case you need them."

"No no no," Lavender interjected before Leo could agree. "Absolutely not. If I get one complaint of bad behavior, Merlin help you!"

"Lavenderrrr," Leo whined.

"Yeah, Lavenderrrr," Seamus echoed, a teasing look on his face as he met her eyes again. All thoughts of scolding went right out the window as she was momentarily breathless, staring at his slightly parted lips and remembering all kinds of things.

The train whistle broke the moment and Lavender was absurdly grateful and resentful at the same time, and more than a little embarrassed that she was so easily distracted. This was hardly the time or place to be thinking _things_ like that about her ex. "Alright, Leo," she said, turning to him. "Are you ready?"

He threw himself at her, burying his face in her shoulder and gripping her in a tight hug. "_Thank you_," he whispered, raw emotions in his voice tugging at her heart. She hugged him back, kissing the top of his head and fighting back her own emotions. She was going to miss him.

"Go show them everything you are," she whispered back, "and tell me all about it."

Lavender waved frantically as the train started pulling out of the station, steam pouring from it. She blamed that about the tears pricking at the corners of her eyes as she watched the train move off and her scrappy werewolf hanging halfway out the window as he waved goodbye. She swiped at her eyes once the train rounded the corner, sniffling slightly.

A hand offered her a handkerchief and she took it gratefully, turning to Seamus with her still watery eyes. "I like your new manners," she commented, voice a little thick from repressed emotions.

He shrugged. "I just know you, remember? This isn't a common thing."

She made a humming noise in agreement. Despite what he said, he seemed... different. Older. More confident in himself. He was standing differently as well – at the end of last year and the months following, all who had been in the DA during that awful seventh year had moved like hunted things, flinching at noises and staying to the sides. Seamus was still wary, she could tell that in an instant by the way he kept his hand touching his wand at all times, the way his eyes flicked to the few dark corners in the station, the way he kept the sleeves of his Auror robe rolled up and the buttons down the front open.

"What're you staring at me for?" He asked, interrupting her musings.

Lavender blinked once, staring at him for just a few seconds longer before realizing exactly what he was calling her out on. "What?" She asked, voice a little higher than usual. "Do you think Leo is going to be okay?"

Seamus gave her a weird look, like he knew she was changing the subject but didn't know why. "Course. Why wouldn't he be?"

"What if people are mean to him, or scared of him? He's been a werewolf for so long, I know he forgets regular human behavior sometimes. The moment he even snarls at someone..."

"It's going to be fine, Lavender," Seamus said bracingly. "He's a smart kid. He knows the rules."

"But – "

"Hey," Seamus interrupted. She looked up at him warily, hesitating to meet his eyes. "You'd think you were sending your firstborn off to school. Leo is smart and he's been taking care of himself for years. Everything is going to be fine." He put a hand on her shoulder, tentative. "He's going to be great at Hogwarts. He's going to make friends and have amazing experiences, just like we did. You got him that chance, so be proud, not worried. He's going to be the best."

Lavender managed a smile at that last, finally meeting Seamus's eyes. He was looking at her with a mix of pride and something like longing and she quickly looked away again. "Do you want to get coffee?" She offered. It wasn't their usual day for it but Lavender didn't want to be alone after seeing Leo off, and she had taken the rest of the day to be away from the office.

He shook his head with regret. "Can't, sorry, I'm on duty until seven tonight. Managed to run off for Leo on my lunch break."

"Oh," she said. "Then maybe dinner later?"

"Really?" He asked, and she smiled as she saw him wince out of the corner of her eye. "I mean, uh, yeah, of course."

"Great," she said.

"It's Friday," Seamus offered. She could hear the hesitation practically dripping from his words. "I could cook, if you want."

Lavender remembered their Friday night dinners that felt like they had happened an age ago. Warm smells of chicken and beef and roasting vegetables and fresh bread – he had learned to cook from his mother and she was the best cook in four counties, he had always proudly proclaimed. "I'd like that," she agreed after a few seconds of thought. "Your place at eight?"

"Yeah," he agreed. He scribbled down his address and the location for the apparation point in his usual messy scrawl on a scrap of paper and passed it to her. "See you then."

Her stomch fluttered constantly until it was time to leave for Seamus's place. Lavender had gone back to work and done paperwork for a few hours despite Inhuman Resources officially being closed. She tried to keep herself busy. Still, her mind had been on anything but what she was doing and she headed home around five to get ready.

It was just dinner with a friend, she reminded herself as she picked out a red silk top and a black skirt before scowling at her selections and chucking them back in her closet. A friend from whom she wanted more than friendship, whispered a treacherous part of herself. Lavender hushed that part of herself firmly and picked out a more modest ensemble, though the dark green shirt was perhaps a bit low cut for the friendly dinner she was going to.

She apparated to the apparation point near Seamus's new house and was surprised to discover that it was actually in a neighborhood with houses, not just flats. Some of them even had small front yards. She walked to his address and knocked on the door. She tried to smother her vague worries – this was going to be the first time they had been alone, not in a public place like a coffee shop, since agreeing to try being friends.

Before she had time to dwell too much, Seamus opened the door. He stood in front of her in a dark button down shirt that had a floury handprint down the front and his hair also dusted with flour. The dinner smells that were coming from the house were enough to distract her, though she couldn't help a small giggle as he invited her in.

"Sorry," Seamus apologized with a grin. "House is a bit of a mess."

"You are too," she teased. He gave her a quizzical look and she pointed at his floured shirt.

"Ah damn," he swore lightly, brushing at it. "Well, the bread will be worth it."

"I have complete faith in you," she said as he ushered her into the kitchen. He paused just for a second at that and she berated herself mentally. Loaded statements like that were not supposed to happen. Still, she felt her heart flop over at the slight smile that touched his face, and when she realized that what she had said was true. She was trusting him again, slowly but surely.

He took her on a tour of the house. It was small, but it did have two bedrooms and two bathrooms, as well as a small yard in the back. Plus, the kitchen was huge for the size of the house, and Lavender could tell that he was enjoying getting to use it properly. One of the bedrooms was clearly used as an office/storage space and he didn't linger on the other one that he used as his room, but she did catch a glimpse of the picture of the two of them during seventh year on the table next to his bed. She bit her lip hard to keep from saying anything about it.

Dinner was steak and salad and fresh baked bread with a fantastic red wine to go with it all. Lavender commented that Seamus had outdone himself and he shrugged and said that he hadn't had anyone to cook for in a while, then flushed and fetched dessert. Dessert was a chocolate pots du crème with shortbread and Lavender dug into it with a touch of nostalgia.

The last time he had made a chocolate pot du crème was just after the Christmas dance that she had thrown for the DA. He had told her to go up to the seventh year boy's dorm in Gryffindor Tower and he would be up shortly. When he met her up there it was with a dessert that was chocolate and smooth and sinful, and it had been the first time she thought about telling him that she loved him. She didn't tell him then, but it had been the first time that she realized that she wanted him in her life as more than a friend, and more than a lover.

After dinner Lavender agreed to one more glass of wine and they went to sit in the living room. The "class photo" of the DA was pinned up over his fireplace and Lavender felt a bittersweet emotion rush through her as she looked at it. So many of them were gone, and none of them looked as carefree now as they had in that picture.

"I miss that," she commented, gesturing to the picture.

Seamus nodded in agreement. "Neville and Hannah were thinking of hosting a... well, it wouldn't exactly be an anniversary party, but something like that. I know the Ministry put something on up at the school last May, but..."

"Yeah," Lavender said. "I had to go up there a few months ago to talk to McGonagall about Leo's admission to Hogwarts and it wasn't great." That was an understatement. She could still remember shaking and sobbing and clinging to the gates as she looked over the grounds.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Seamus asked. He leaned forward slightly, the picture of attentiveness, and she loved him for it. His blue eyes glimmered in the firelight, clearly not realizing that just that simple offer meant everything and more to her. He was there for her. He had been there for her when she had called for him at the Auror office. He had been there for her when Leo was in the hospital. He had been there for her the past few months to listen to her complain about government funding and he had suggested ways to help make up the difference in funds. And he was here for her, now, in his house by the light of the fire, wanting to hear her concerns and fears and worries, just like he had done before.

"I..." She wanted to kiss him. For his selflessness, for believing in her when she didn't believe in herself, for being there for her. The desire swept through her like a racing fire, setting her pulse to racing. What was it about him that could turn her into a melting mess with nothing more than a look? "Did you mean what you said before? That you were holding out hope?" She asked instead, making her mouth do something only slightly less reckless.

He nodded slowly. "I'm never giving up on you, unless you tell me to."

She took in and released a deep breath. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay." Saying okay wasn't helping matters. Neither was knowing that he was going to be there. That if she kissed him, he would kiss her back. Then again, that was actually helping in the best possible way. She wanted him back. She leaned forward to match him, staring him right in the eyes. They were inches apart and she could clearly see his confusion had turned to desire. "Screw it," she whispered, and brought her lips to his.

She almost whimpered with relief as he kissed her back, no hesitation. He had a hand tangled in her hair instantly, pulling her to him. He whispered her name against her mouth and she felt desired, and wanted, and whole.


	25. Chapter 25

Lavender woke up the next morning at Seamus's house and a small wave of panic flushed over her. What had she done? She had sworn it wasn't going to be anything more than dinner with a friend – now look at where she was. She breathed a sigh, smelling the slight tinge of curse fire, the warm cooking scents, traces of whatever laundry soap he was using for his sheets, and something that was uniquely, perfectly Seamus. Lavender shifted slightly, seeing his arm out of the corner of her eye. He was turned towards her and she could feel his hand on her hip.

Last night had been... well. Lavender flushed as she remembered. After she had kissed him in his living room things had progressed quickly. She remembered being carried into the bedroom. She remembered a trail of clothing left behind them, and a quick glance confirmed that her bra was on his lamp. She remembered the press of his skin up against her, hot and sweaty and longing, and the feel of her nails clawing his back, the sound of his groaning at that muffled into her shoulder. She had bitten his neck hard enough to leave marks and he had panted her name and returned her scratches and bites she had whimpered his name, sweat and breath mingling into one. Sheets had been flung all over the bed until they had been kicked off. His pillows had been jettisoned as well, and soon they had been intertwined on nothing more than a fitted sheet and his mattress.

It had been more desperate even than the last time they had had sex. Last Christmas, she realized with a start. Then, they had been clinging to each other because it was ending, and Lavender hadn't wanted to let go. Neither had Seamus, she suspected, but things had gotten so out of control, they had both gotten so scared... and desperation had tinged their passion. This time, it had been with a different sort of desperation, a desperation bent on reclaiming what they had lost. Lavender remembered being hell-bent on showing him that she remembered how exactly he liked to be touched and she could tell he had been the same for her.

Last night was probably the best sex she had ever had.

But now, self-preservation instincts were screaming at her to run. And she debated that option for all of three seconds before dismissing it. That would hurt him like he had hurt her, and more hurt wasn't what was going to fix them. And she wanted to fix them, and she knew he did too. Plus, whispered the practical part of her, after last night she could feel her legs and core and arms still trembling. Walking might be out right now, let alone running. Let alone operating doors and clothing.

He stirred slightly in his sleep, the lone sheet that he had reclaimed before they fell asleep tangled up in each other last night rustling on his bed. His hand on her hip tightened and he pulled her closer to him. She couldn't help the smile that crossed her face and she relaxed slightly, letting him do it. She rolled towards him gently, trying not to wake him. He looked so peaceful, a tiny smile on his face and his muscles relaxed. And my goodness, what muscles... she allowed herself a good look at what she could see above the sheet.

Of course, last night she had felt him, his skin burning satin under her hands, but feeling was different than looking. He had gotten into great shape in seventh year, they all had, but that had been more out of desperation to last longer in the final battle than anything formal. Now, he had clearly seen someone about how to exercise properly, and the results... well, she supposed he would always be lanky and not every girl's cup of tea, but to her, he was amazing. Long, wiry muscles slipped under his skin as he moved and she had to restrain herself from reaching out to touch his arm.

New scars and wounds decorated him (to say nothing of the red scratches she had left last night, but those would heal quickly enough). Most of them looked like curse marks. Some looked like knives. Of course, they were nothing compared to the patchwork of marks he had gotten during seventh year. Some of those had vanished. Most hadn't. Her gaze in particular was caught by a long slash from his ear to his chin, raking along his jawline. That one he had gotten for her when he had stood up for her during a Dark Arts class after she had gotten Crucio'd for being late. She had been whimpering and crying on the floor like a kicked dog and a terrified, pitiful noise had escaped her when she saw another wand being pointed at her, but then there had been no pain. There had been some loud yells and then Parvati picking her up and holding her together and she had looked over to see Seamus being slammed into a desk and bright red blood suddenly happening...

Lavender traced the long healed scar with trembling fingers. It was nothing more now than a white line against white skin, barely discernible, but she knew what it meant. She remembered and she loved him for it. Merlin, she loved him.

He sighed and opened his eyes slowly. She watched him pick through his brain, trying to hide her amusement as the events of the previous night flashed across his memory and his expression changed accordingly. Finally he said, almost warily, like he didn't want to spook her away, "I thought you would be gone."

"I thought about it for a second, but no," she disagreed. She ran her fingers down the long scar on his face again and he leaned into her touch. "I want to make this work, Seamus. I meant that."

A smile crossed his face and he put his hand over hers, pressing her palm to his cheek. "I do too."

This wasn't the best place to talk about things – doubtless he had to go to work, and she had paperwork she should be taking care of – but suddenly all Lavender wanted to do was stay in bed and talk things out with Seamus. He wasn't making any moves to get up either, and maybe he felt the same. She didn't know. She took a deep breath and then said, "Do you have to go to work soon?"

"Wild horses couldn't drag me from this bed," he answered immediately. She couldn't help her giggle at that. More seriously, he added, "I meant it when I said I was going to make time for you. I'm always going to be here for you, whenever you need me around."

"Within reason, I'm sure," she commented, joking a little. She didn't handle tension well. She never had.

"No," he said, quietly and firmly insisting. "_I am here for you_. If you asked me to quit the Aurors, I would."

"Seamus, no," she scolded him instantly. "Don't offer that to me. Don't offer that to anyone."

"I just want to do right by you," he said, voice soft. It was a mark of how much he meant it that he wasn't yelling, she knew. He was passionate and vocal all the time, but he seemed to realize that this was a conversation to be had with a level head. "If that means quitting my job – "

"If you do that, you're not the man I fell in love with," Lavender declared, fixing him with a look that wasn't angry, but certainly wasn't pleased either. "And if I asked you to do that, I wouldn't be the woman you want either. Or I shouldn't be. I'd be that stupid, insecure, idiot girl who thought she was in love with Ron in sixth year, back before the world went insane. You don't want her and I don't want a Seamus who won't fight for what he wants. Your job is a part of you. Yes, you let it become too much a part of you a few months ago, but we both needed to figure out boundaries. We're still working on that, but it's better now. _We're_ better. We can make this work – make _us_ work – but only if you don't lose a single part of you that makes you _you_."

"Do you really think we can make us work?" He asked. His voice was so hopeful that she couldn't help but smile.

"I do," she affirmed. It felt like they were reassuring each other of that constantly, but maybe the reassurance was necessary. "I've missed you so much, Seamus, and I want you in my life. Not just as a friend."

He reached up to touch her hair and then brushed a finger over her ear. She shivered. "I don't want to rush you into anything," he said. "I hurt you last time. I can't promise that I won't hurt you again. I want to promise, but I can't, because I don't want to ever lie to you."

"I don't need that promise," she said, staring at him and hoping he could see that she meant it. "I just need you to try."

They breathed together, once, twice, before Seamus closed the few inches between them and kissed her, long and slow and deep. It wasn't like the night before, two people lost and lonely and reunited and frantic. This was sweet and gentle, a promise between old friends, and she returned it with interest. "Always, Lav," he murmured against her lips, tangling a hand in her golden hair.

This time, everything was gentle. Light fingers and light touches, gentleness in every line of them as they collapsed into each other. There weren't any sheets or pillows to get in the way this time – the one he had been using he chucked off the bed in an instant – and in the morning light she could see him. Long and lean and wiry and freckled, she kissed him with an intensity that would have shocked her if it wasn't him. But it was him, and this was right.

"So," he asked after, a little breathless. She had her head on his shoulder and his arm around her and made a humming noise to show she was listening. "Does this mean we're back together?"

That got a burst of laughter out of her. "Yes, of course." She leaned up and kissed his neck.

"My coworkers were planning a night out tonight. Club and dancing and the like. I wasn't going to go, but... be my date?"

A catlike smile crossed her face. He knew how much she loved dancing, and he clearly knew it was a good thing to suggest to her now. It wouldn't have been before, but now... "One condition."

"Anything."

"Make me breakfast," she demanded, giving him a light push. "I'm starving."

He laughed and rolled out of bed, offering her a hand up.

They lazed around his house the rest of the day, though Lavender did insist on going home to change before going out with his coworkers. She pawed through her dresses until she found one she liked, a dark red dress with gold trim and gold sparkles on it. The dress hit her mid-thigh and the halter straps around her neck were narrow, a deep V-neck accentuating... well, pretty much everything. She twirled her hair up with the gold and red silk clip that she had as well, before brushing gold eyeshadow on and doing the rest of her makeup lightly. Red silk pumps completely the look and made her three inches taller. "Gryffindor bold," she told Seamus as she walked out.

He looked stunned for a moment and then shook his head slightly. "It's been ages since I've seen you dressed up like that."

"Oh nonsense," she started, and then paused. Of course. The last time he had seen her 'dressed up' to go out it had been in a loose fitting dark dress with long sleeves, and tights to go underneath to cover her scars. Now all her scars were bared and she didn't care one bit. "Well," she amended. "I said I was better. I'm not hiding. I'm not ashamed anymore."

"You look fantastic, Lav," he said. He couldn't quit staring at her and it felt like seventh year again and she giggled.

"Come on," she said, gesturing to her door. "It's Saturday night. Take me dancing."

The place they ended up was, of course, the Dragon's Head. Seamus took her hand before leading her through the crowd. The music made her want to dance – it was something heavy, with a beat that was making the floor throb under her red silk pumps. He'd never been overly fond of this kind of scene, she remembered, especially after seventh year. Maybe he was trying to move on too. That thought made her happy and she had a fantastic smile on her face by the time he brought her to his coworkers.

"Hannah! Neville!" Lavender greeted, waving her free hand at them. The gathering was of the younger Aurors, she noted, so of course Hannah and Neville would be there.

Hannah turned to Lavender and did a visible double take. "Lavender? You look amazing!"

Belatedly, Lavender remembered that actually, none of her friends had seen her dressed up like this since seventh year. Doubtless they were all still expecting her to be hiding her scars. Lavender went up and hugged Hannah, not letting her smile fade at all. They might still be expecting her to be some broken, flinching, wild thing – that was fine. She just had to show them that she was good now. She was great.

"Come dance with me!" Lavender said, dragging Hannah onto the dance floor after kissing Seamus on the cheek and leaving a smear of red lipstick.

"I think he wants to introduce you to everyone," Hannah said, leaning close to Lavender to be heard over the blast of the music. "Wait, are you here together?"

Lavender's smile was enough to make Hannah cry out in happiness and hug her excitedly. "We're fixing things," Lavender confided. "Now come on! Dance with me!" Hannah laughed and batted her off, so Lavender shrugged and took to the floor herself. She swirled around, hair flying loose of the red and gold silk clip, gold sparkles on her dress flashing in the lights. She always was a fabulous dancer, from the ballet classes her mother had put her through to the modern dance workshops she had done through the summers up until she was sixteen.

Dimly, her werewolf ears heard one of Seamus's coworkers whistling and saying "That's your girlfriend, mate?" She turned and flashed them a look, red lips parting around bright white teeth, and a laugh bubbling up from her throat. She caught Seamus's nod at the question and laughed outright, darting back through the crowd to take his hand and bring him onto the dance floor.

"So I'm your girlfriend, eh?" She asked, mirroring his question from that morning.

Seamus shrugged. "Unless you want Kissenger pawing at you all night, I'm your only option." He winked at her and it made her catch her breath.

"You're the best option," she said, putting her arms on his shoulders and lacing her fingers together behind his neck. "Do you remember the last time we danced?" That song had been very different than this one, but it didn't matter.

"Christmas party, seventh year," he replied promptly. She grinned at his exactness. "Merlin, was that really almost two years ago?"

"Mhmm," she affirmed. "Feels like shorter and longer all at once." She could remember their last dance perfectly, her head on his shoulder, breathing in his cologne. The Room of Requirement had been packed full of couples dancing like they were, but she liked to think that no one had danced as long as they had. They hadn't been officially together at the time – Lavender hadn't wanted anything serious because of their plans for the battle at the end of the year – but it had sure _felt_ serious when they danced, and when he looked at her like he had done. Like he was looking at her now.

But now was different than then, because they had lived. Oh Merlin, they had _lived_. And the past year and a half had been crazy and lonely and hard, but he was here with her now, looking at her like she meant the world to him and she knew he was telling the truth when he said that he would try not to hurt her again.

"I love you, Seamus," she said, low over the hum of the music. He couldn't possibly have heard her over the noise, but she saw the same affirmation on his lips as he said the words back and she leaned up and kissed him, and all was right with her world.

* * *

And we're done! Whew. I hope you all have enjoyed my quick and wild ride with Lavender and Seamus - I can't say for sure if more of this pairing is going to come, but leave me a review if you want more, or have any feedback, or just want to say hi! Check out some of my other stories as well, and be sure to stay tuned for more writing from my by clicking the follow/favorite button! I thank you all so much for reading and I truly hope you have smiled and laughed at least once during the story.

All my love,

Vee/amerikanka


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